The 141 plus one
by Kyrie 'Echo' Wade
Summary: Something's off about her. The 141 just doesn't know what. She's trying to help, will her efforts work or will they crumble and burn like the rest of the world. Rated M. The events of MW2 but slightly altered. R and R.
1. Who is the new FNG?

**AN: **It's done, or the first chapter that is. I've rewritten this and I'm very glad I did. I had horrible humor, horrible format, and my OC was perceived as a walking sex toy as one of my reviewers put it. I have to thank him because I'm pretty sure if he hadn't pointed it out, my story would seriously suck. Most female COD characters in stories are perceived as that and I did not want that. My story used to have corny jokes and stupid humor that I'm really happy I got rid of; it just didn't have that "141" feel to it. So, THANK YOU **Verity A **for reviewing and giving me the criticism I really needed. Hopefully, this story is better; I gave it a much more serious tone while still implementing my humor which probably still sucks, but you'll just have to deal with it. Anyways, if you are wondering how to pronounce Kyrie it's Kir (rhymes with spear) and then just say the letter E. Kyrie. Hopefully this is better and it will make more people happy because when I first put it up my first three reviews were within the first thirty minutes of putting it up and in a nutshell they said it sucked. But, **Verity A **was nicer than the others so I have to thank him for that too. By the way, I'm 13, so yeah, the writing won't be as good. Enjoy! (hopefully)

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

**Who is the new FNG**

The Task Force 141 is a multinationals, secret, military organization. Emphasis on the secret. Without the 141 the world would be but a burning chasm filled with nothing more than gun powder, bullets, and despair. The 141 was the glue that held all the nations together; if there was a problem, the 141 would know about it before the people causing the problem even started to act up.

The 141 is elite, united, lethal, dangerous, endurable, and more importantly, bad-ass organization. To be part of the task force, you have to give up family, friends, and education. Oh and edible food. You give your life. Not only must the life itself be given, you must also give your social life. You won't be able to contact your loved ones…at all.

A gerbil could jump through a burning ring, kill over 100 tangos, feed a baby, do 75 back-flips, ride a motorcycle, defuse 10 bombs in less than 30 seconds, and do a Olympics gymnastics routine and still not make it into the 141.

So far, there was the General Shepard; he commanded the 141. Then, there was Captain John Mactavish; apparently he is a war hero, or so the rumor has it. Next in the power chain was Lieutenant Simon Riley, or as he is called by his call sign fairly often, he decided to just have everyone call him by it. The call sign Ghost goes perfectly with his mask and, also apparent, dark past. Then came the new FNG, Sergeant Gary "Roach" Sanderson. Other men such as Worm, Archer, Meat, Toad, Scarecrow, Ozone, Chemo, and Royce are also in the Task Force and follow the elite group.

Right now though, they were all sitting around the meeting room in a malformed circle like schoolchildren during story-time.

"I'm seriously wondering who this transfer is," Meat commented in a strident voice, sure to get everyone's attention.

"Cool down, Meat, or at least lower your voice," Worm said, eyeing him unenthusiastically, "It's four in the God-dang morning and I'm beat. Archer couldn't stop snoring."

Roach was unspoken, like usual, during the argument between Archer and Worm. Roach was curious to who this 'transfer' was, he heard some very attention-grabbing rumors about the man and he was looking forward to seeing if they were true.

One rumor was that he entered the military at an enrollment stand and within 72 hours he was put up against the pit to test his skills. The pit was an obstacle course meant for elite men; it decided if you were up to the challenge that was the 141. It has been said that he beat the all time record, only by a hair, but still.

"Do think we might get a girl in the force? I'm not saying that as…a thing, but as an actual question," Royce said, trying to word his words carefully. He wasn't a sexist, in fact he had been beaten to the punch many times by a women and he wasn't about to underestimate them.

"You know, I don't really know," Meat answered, "but I'd think it'd be cool to have a girl around, just to mix things up. It'd be fun to have a different opinion weather the recruits a guy or a girl."

Up until now Ghost and Mactavish were casually watching the men chatter aimlessly about the new recruit and guns. It was common for them to start on one topic and completely end on the total opposite of what they started with. One time, they went from puppies to tacos. They didn't see the point of getting involved in a conversation that was going no where any time soon and Roach thought the same.

When Roach had first come here he was shy and uncooperative in socializing. Almost everyone had their suspicions that he grew up in richer and more up-tight home that wasn't really concerned with the current war because "they could always move". After a few weeks, Meat and the others wanted to get to know the new guy and decided that the best way to initialize this was doing the bucket on a door trick and soak Roach with ice cold water; the plan worked perfectly, except for the fact that it wasn't Roach who walked under the door of the barracks that morning.

_Meat knew that Roach got up earlier than the others to avoid the rough housing that went on in the showers, so therefore Roach would get drenched in water as he walked out the door to do so. To bad it was surprise inspection that day and the first person to walk through the door that morning was not Roach going to the showers but…Captain John Mactavish waking the men up for the inspection, the list of profanities the Captain let out could be heard from the other side of the base._

_After the Captain was done having his adult temper tantrum he let out a growl, "Who. Put. The _bucket_ with ice cold water there."_

_Just as Meat was about to raise his hand in defeat, a sullen voice called out, "It was me. I'm so sorry Captain, it was meant for Meat as a prank. I didn't think we had inspection today."_

_Everyone's heads snapped towards the voice and their gaze landed on the new FNG who was looking down in shame._

_The Captain knew that Roach did not do this and the prank was probably the other way around; it was meant for Roach and set up by Meat. But alas, he could see the boy was trying to make everyone like him so he put on a flustered and angry face, almost choking on laughter and said, "This is not a good way to start out Sanderson! Come with me immediately and Ghost and I will decide a punishment."_

_No one even noticed the man with the skull balaclava behind Mactavish; no one saw the ghost of a grin plastered on the skeleton's face either. Not even Mactavish._

"Yeah, do you think the recruit will be like badass or something?" Worm couldn't have stopped the question if he wanted to.

Roach shrugged, as did many others in response. "I don't really care as long as he or she's ready to fight along side us," Roach responded, "That's all that really matters, right?"

Without even meaning to, the men looked towards Ghost and the Captain; Ghost merely responded with a sharp nod and a "Yes."

Mactavish smiled lightly and said, "I think you'll like the new FNG. The FNG is a little different, but then again, which one of you isn't?"

Low chuckles sounded as an automatic response and several men smiled brightly. Even though it was more likely an insult, it still felt like praise, so the men accepted it with open arms.

"Sir, can you tell us the name at least," Ghost said, his British accent shining through, "We've been here for almost an hour."

Several murmurs of agreement sounded, but Mactavish only chuckled lowly, "Sit down at your assigned seats and wait; they should be here any minute."

"They?'' Several men echoed as the pulled out the dusty, uncomfortable chairs from under the table. Archer cursed softly from his standard gear getting caught on one of the sharper edges of the chair and gently pulled at it, not wanting to rip anything.

As soon as they heard the telltale clicks of the door, everyone straightened and Archer sat down rapidly, risking a huge tear in his pant leg.

The first to enter was General Shepard; everyone immediately stood at attention and saluted. He took noticed and gave a sharp nod, "At ease." General Shepard's voice was cruel and rough. His voice continued to get rougher from screaming commands and giving horribly long speeches to the world about the war, although that was under name that didn't even exist. Well, it did; back in the 1800's.

"Captain Mactavish, I would like you to meet your new FNG. She was recently transferred from the 75th ranger regiment. I know she's more skilled than that, but I want to see if she's up to the challenge of the 141. She'll be here for 6 months, much like Allen was supposed to. Every member of your company will type a report to persuade or dissuade me to let her join. Come on in Sergeant, your comrades are waiting for you."

The minute she walks in the room, everything thing seems to grow cold. An uneasy feeling spreads through the room quickly and all eyes are trained on her.

She's wearing simple black combat boots and grey, baggy, military issued pants. She's wearing a simple black t-shirt and her straight brown locks are in a braid that goes straight down her back. She obviously hasn't gotten her gear yet or she would be wearing it. Her eyes are a deep brown with the occasional twist of caramel. But everyone does not focus on her looks or hair or the well defined muscles, but the long, pale scar running from her right cheekbone down across her neck and then a bigger pale splotch at the point where the collarbones meet. In an instance, everyone knows what must've happened. She was probably captured and tortured; seeing that she wouldn't talk, they saw no use for her.

_He __ran the smile of the knife down her cheekbone and then retraced it. The young girl of an age no more than ten bit her tongue in an attempt to not scream out in pain._

"_So little girl, are you going to tell us where your daddy is or will we have to force it out of you," one the dirty, beaten men said. She was currently in an abandoned, dilapidated, old house. Mice and rats infested the walls and bones from the gang's previous murders hung out in every corner, some still had flesh on them. She felt cornered and alone in the small structure; just as everyone in the corners had felt before._

_She didn't know who they were or why they wanted her dad, but she promised not to tell the secret. She promised._

_She shook her head quickly and stuck out her tongue, "I'm never gonna tell you!"_

"_Fine then."_

_The man started at her cheekbone again, pushing the leering smile of the switchblade harder than he did before. He slowly dragged it down her face, then her skinny neck, and finally to the point of her collarbone. The girl could not help but let out a screech of pain as he did this._

"_Good girls follow orders; you're a bad girl for not telling us."_

_He plunged the knife through her skin at the point he had left off, she screamed in agony before she realized she had a clean kick to his one sensitive area._

_She kicked with all the strength she had left and pulled at the bonds tying her wrist. They broke fairly easily because no one had checked her for weapons and she had been slowly whittling away at the binds with a small knife she kept in her back pocket just in case. After that, she ran, hearing sirens in the distance she ran faster. She really hated New York._

"I'm Sergeant Kyrie "Raven" Wade; it's a pleasure to be in your company." Her voice was rough and worn, but still filled with determination; everyone could hear it when she talked.

"I am sure they want to introduce themselves so I'll leave them to it," Shepard commented, nodding his head.

As if on cue, Mactavish stood up and nodded, "I am Captain John Mactavish, welcome to the Task Force 141, or as Shepard would put it "The best, hand picked warriors in the world"."

Kyrie saluted quickly and nodded, "Sir!"

As Mactavish was sitting down, Ghost stood up, "I am Lieutenant Simon Riley, but call me Ghost if you would." Kyrie was about half-way through her salute when Ghost raised his hand and gently shook his head, "You don't need to do that again, I know you respect us." Kyrie seemed mildly surprised but put her hand down anyways.

Roach was already standing up as he introduced himself, "Technically by the rules, you don't have to do anything for me, and in fact I actually think you're my superior, since your first class, correct?"

She nodded, "Yes sir, I am."

"Well, there you go. You are officially the superior of Sergeant Gary "Roach" Sanderson, it's a pleasure to have a new FNG, much like myself," Roach smiled.

Despite being in the presence of the General, Kyrie smiled and gave a small chuckle.

"Alright, you can meet the other men later," General Shepard commanded more than told. He didn't like the fact that he made her smile.

Meat, Royce, and the others seemed generally disappointed that they didn't get to be officially introduced like the other three. "Oh well", they thought silently, "I'm sure we'll make our introductions later."

The General smiled lightly and patted Kyrie on the back, "I already gave Mactavish your records, he's aware of who you are." Kyrie gave a small lift of her eyebrow but said nothing. "Good luck. Remember that the 141 is the glue that holds the world together; without us the world would've broken already. You're apart of that now, Sergeant."

Without any more words, the General walked briskly out the door, followed by a short bang of the door.

"I swear he's gonna break that door someday," Mactavish commented.

Kyrie was looking at the door until she turned around to be greeted by curious and confused looks.

"Wha…What," Kyrie asked, immensely nervous she did something wrong.

"You made him smile," Roach said, staring her down intensely. Kyrie let out a sigh of relief, she finally didn't do something wrong. Wait…this could still go wrong.

"And…" Kyrie started, having no other response.

"The General doesn't smile very often; if at all," Ghost responded.

"Who are you to him," Ghost and Roach asked in unison. The team joined in and said, "Yeah, really."

Mactavish chuckled as he watched his company interrogate the "Shy" girl. Several things came up such as…Girlfriend. "Too young," they said. Daughter? "No, that's just weird," they said. Maid? "Seriously Roach, how did you even come up with that one?"

"Um…I don't know any more," Roach sighed, giving up.

"Thank God," Meat exclaimed, "I could've sworn the next one would be his pet panda."

"Panda…," Kyrie twitched, "his pet panda?"

"You asked me how I came up with maid, so let me ask you how you came up with that," Roach fired back.

Meat stuck is tongue out in mock childishness and crossed his arms. Without a word or warning, Kyrie stood up and walked over to Meat; as soon as she was there, she smacked him on the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for," Meat questioned, holding the back of his head. The smack had not hurt; it was more the surprise than anything.

"You called me a panda. I am not a panda, I'm a Raven." With that Kyrie went back to standing at the front of the room.

When Mactavish said she was different…they didn't exactly think like this. She was almost as weird as Ghost…almost. She hasn't flied of the handle yet, therefore, slightly less weird than Ghost.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> So, for people who have read my story when I first published it, is it better? For those of you who are new, is it good or bad? I like criticism as long as it's not hateful and mean; I want advice, not a troll who's grumpy from his bridge being remodeled. Lame joke, right. I don't think I used a single swear word in here.

**Roach:** That's probably because we weren't being shot at for once, or you know, being bur-

SHUT UP THAT"S A SPOILER! Anyways, I hope this one is better. R and R. I will try to listen to criticism and advice. No major flames, okay.

**Roach:** Flames? Oh yeah, that's right, I still need to get back at-

WOULD YOU SHUT UP, GODDAMMIT!

**Roach:** you swear-

DID YOU NOT HEAR ME!


	2. Operation CliffHanger

**AN: **Hi, Hi. Second chapter is up and it's way longer than the first one. It's like 5000 words; Can't remember off the top of my head, sorry. Anyways, I think this one is a tiny bit funnier than the first chapter, it has some of my humor in it, but I think I did better. **AND OMG THERE'S ERRORS! **Yeah, I know. I have the 2003 version of Microsoft word, so expect that. One more thing, it's amazing how I can get writing's block on something that's practically already written for me. Anyways, time for reviewers.

**PanPanPeppermint: **Yes, I'm quite aware of the dialogue, I wanted it to be that way. As for my character being cute, she really isn't but that is how she seems in the first chapter huh. I'll fix that further in the story, when she becomes more a part of the story and Team. Anyways, THANKS SO MUCH for reviewing. I appreciate it more than you know.

**Deadmanslullaby: **Why, thank you. I tried much harder than I did the first time and I think it payed off. Thanks so much for reviewing!

**Verity A: **Thank you, that was my favorite flashback too. I had fun writing it. Thanks for reviewing! and XD right back.

**Julia Mactavish:** I'm guessing, you're a Soap fan. Lol, jk. Thanks for the review on my original story; and just so you know, you're the only person who thought it was good. But still, thanks for taking your time to review and such! Thanks!

**TO ALL READERS: **I know I don't really have the right to ask you this, but screw it. Please, share this story to any of your friends who might be interested, or pass it around on Fanfiction. I thank all of you who have even read this, let alone reviewed it, but one small favor and I promise I'll actually keep to a schedule.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

**Cliff Hanger Commences**

"Alright, boys," Mactavish says, "Raven, Roach, and I are going on Operation: Cliffhanger, so I want you guys to do weapon training with Ghost for the rest of the morning."

"What about after lunch, Sir," Meat inquires, "What do we do then?"

"Normal schedule for the afternoon, make sure you turn in early then," a half-caring look on the Captain's face, "Depending on the turnout of this mission; you could have to wake up as early as two A.M."

"But, curfew is at twelve," Royce said in a wail of defiance.

"That's why we're going to turn in early, Mate," Ghost says uninterested. "Good luck then, Sir," Ghost says turning towards Mactavish, "As for you two, just don't die."

Kyrie chuckles lightly, "That's easier said than done, sir."

Roach's lips tug up into a grin and Mactavish chuckles lowly, "She has a valid point, Ghost."

Ghost smiles; the act however, is hidden by his skull balaclava, "She does, doesn't she?"

"Hey! Hey!"

Kyrie and Roach glance around Ghost to see the men standing in a line up, trying to get their attention.

"How long have they been doing that," Kyrie asks curiously, raising her eyebrow and looking over to Roach.

"Who knows," is all he says in response, still stunned they didn't hear them until now.

Mactavish looks at them, "What's wrong now?"

"The General didn't let us introduce ourselves," several men groaned.

"It's only fair, Sir," Meat smirked.

Mactavish sighed, not really caring, "Fine, make it quick."

"Okay, I'm Meat, if you didn't know…"

"He got his call sign by being a complete idiot off the field, if you didn't figure it out," Royce snickers.

Meat's face flushes red in anger and promptly telling Royce off, "Oh yeah, I'm the idiot? Maybe I should inform everybody about that time with the popsicles!"

Royce's face goes blank, "You wouldn't."

"Oh I would."

"I'll shut up."

"Wise choice, grasshopper," Meat smirks.

Royce grinds his teeth and looks at Kyrie, "I'm Royce by the way and nothing happened with the popsicles."

"Sure," Kyrie laughed, "But, it's nice to meet you two either way."

"I wonder if we should tell him we all know," Roach murmured to Ghost.

Ghost shrugs, "I say we let him simmer for a little while longer yet; now that we have a new FNG."

"Excellent idea."

"I'm Archer, got my call sign from being exceedingly superior in sniping; you probably figured that out, didn't you," Archer laughs.

"Actually, I thought you might've been really weak because in video games, archers have really low health and stuff," Kyrie says, scratching the back of her head and looking away.

The rest of the brigade struggle to hold the laughter that's dying to escape out of their mouths; despite trying their hardest, several giggles slip out.

'Sorry,' Kyrie mouths towards Archer, looking truly sorry, 'You did ask.'

Archer shrugs and mouths back, 'I'm used to it, don't worry about it.'

'Thanks,' she mouths, smiling.

"Alright, enough about Archer, it's time for me," Worm shouts, "I'm Worm and I get my nickname from my time on the low wire crawl; bestest ever so far!"

"It would also seem you have the brain capacity of a worm, as well. Are you sure that's not the reason," Kyrie smirks.

While Worm lets bugs fly into his mouth, Toad introduces himself and says he got his nickname for his habit of blending into the background, which helps immeasurably when he is a sniper.

Scarecrow runs his hand through his hair and simply says, "Scarecrow. Reason is because of my face."

Normally, Kyrie would have made a remark about his English and would have asked if he was the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz; you know, the one without a brain. This time though, something told her to let it go and keep her mouth shut like she'd been trained to.

Ozone states his name and says he got it from controlling air force placement and he used to be a former commander in the Air Force.

'_Cool,_' Kyrie thinks.

"And last of all…," Kyrie says.

"I'm Chemo," the man says, smiling brightly.

"Chemo…? Why?" Kyrie asks, tilting her head slightly, trying to think of a reason.

Chemo shrugs, "Well, I used to have cancer, but I did chemotherapy and I've been cancer free for four years, so yeah."

"Oh, well, in that case…I believe congratulations are in order," Kyrie says, smiling.

"Thank you," Chemo smiles back.

"Alright, you boys done," Mactavish says, faking a yawn.

"Yep," Meat says optimistically.

"Alright then…leave!"

Everyone scurries out except for Ghost who shuffles to the door; looking behind towards the new FNG, he says, "Seriously, don't die."

Kyrie was about to say something but, Ghost cut her off by slamming the door behind him. She stood there flabbergasted for a moment before Mactavish said, "Don't mind him, that's just the way he is with new recruits. He was the same way with Allen."

"Poor Allen," Roach murmured sadly.

Kyrie stood there for a moment or two, feeling more awkward than a hooker in church. And she was sweating just as much; it's the middle of summer, don't they turn the air conditioning on?

"Anyways, let's go over the plan one more time," Mactavish says awkwardly, motioning to some chairs.

Once Roach and Kyrie are settled, he begins, "We have to retrieve an ACS module from the Russian ultranationalists. Their base is in the Tian Shan Mountain Range in Kazakhstan. Remember, it is meant to be done secretly, it's not some big firefight; we don't want that. But, just in case we were to be compromised, we'll plant C4 as a distraction, but until then we have no choice but to go undiscovered."

Looking over the plans, Kyrie points to a red circled hangar, "That's where it is, isn't?"

Mactavish nods grimly.

Of course, it had to be at the very back of the base; the opposite side they were starting out at. Kyrie sighs.

"Are you bringing a intervention or WA2000 with you or something, Mactavish," Kyrie asks, "With a mountain like this, there might be a ledge or something that one of us can provide cover from."

"Oh no, not me."

"Why, Roach," Mactavish says intriguingly.

"I'm bad at sniping, like, really bad. If you put me up on that ledge to cover you guys, I can't guarantee that I won't end up making you guys look like the Swiss cheese of the Damned."

"Thanks," Kyrie says sarcastically, "I'll remember that when I'm sniping, covering you Roach."

"I'm dead serious, Raven."

"It's okay, mate, it was hypothetical," Mactavish says, "I know sniping isn't your strong suite but, I wouldn't go that far."

…

"Anyways, are we going or what," Kyrie asked, aggravated slightly.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get your panties in a twist," Mactavish replies grumpily.

"I'm not even going to respond…" Roach and Kyrie say in unison.

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><p>"Alright breaks over," Mactavish says, flicking his cigarette over the edge of the cliff. A MIG-19 flies over them, almost uprooting Kyrie from her position on the very tiny edge. Mactavish shimmies across the edge with Roach and Kyrie following suite. When he gets to a streak of ice that seems it might be solid, he says, "Roach, spot me."<p>

'_Um, what do I do?' _Kyrie thought, '_Cover Roach while he spots Mactavish?'_

Mactavish sticks his ice picks into the ice, making sure they're firmly rooted in the crystal ice, he stomps his feet into the ice to make sure the ice won't give under his feet as he's climbing.

Seeing it's solid and will hold, he informs his teammates of the fact, "It's solid, let's go."

Mactavish starts up and Roach quickly follows. However, Kyrie is still cautious about using these picks to pull her body weight up a mountain that's practically straight up. Don't get the wrong idea; she's a helluva lot stronger than most women, but she's not a genetic freak whose 300 pounds and counting; with 89% of that muscle and water weight.

She weighs 146 pounds and is 5'7; 78.7% of that is muscle and water weight. She's just not built like that.

Taking a shaky breath, she starts to ascend the mountain. When Mactavish gets closer to the top, another MIG-19 roars over head and he actually looses one of his holds and is just dangling there, clawing like a mad cat.

Kyrie knew how this would go down. Mactavish would fall, crashing into Roach, then the two of them would come down upon her like a meteor and they would flail helplessly until their bodies hit the hard, icy ground about two miles down.

They would literally do a splatter paint job on the icy floor with their own blood. Great.

Luckily, Mactavish somehow saves himself and pulls himself over the edge. Roach is pulled up by Mactavish and Kyrie is pulled up by the both of them.

"That is one huge gap, wouldn't you say," Kyrie laughs nervously.

There was a huge gap in the mountain side and there was no way any human could jump that. So, they were going to have to make some giant leap of faith and claw like a mad cat and hope like Hell one of their picks sticks. This should be fun.

"See you on the far side," Mactavish says, backing up to get a running start.

Somehow, Mactavish makes it look easy. He easily gets to the other side and sticks both his picks before starting up the mountain.

Kyrie took a huge gulp of air; '_Okay legs, don't go retarded on me.' _She took her leap of faith and surprisingly managed to get a grip without looking like a complete idiot, or worse, falling to her death.

"C'mon Roach! It's not as hard as it seems," Kyrie shouted. She knew if she could do it, he could too. She _sucked _at jumping.

But, as Roach's current predicament so very rudely pointed out; Roach sucked at jumping even more than she did. He was hanging by one lone ice pick.

She could see the pick slowly sliding out of the ice; What the Hell should she do!

Before Kyrie's brain could work out a solution, a white puff of snow and ice fell down over her, blurring her vision.

The minute a dark shape penetrated the flurry, a voice rang out, "Keep climbing, Kyrie. You too Roach!"

'_Roach? What the Hell? Wasn't he busy dying a few minutes ago?'_

As soon as the mist cleared and she saw Roach and Captain Mactavish down below her, she understood what happened.

The Captain had literally jumped off the cliff, slid down the range of ice, grabbed Roach's dangling hand, and used his secret Hercules's strength and threw Roach in the air like some rag doll at least 30 feet in the air.

Fortunately, Roach didn't screw up a second time and actually got a grip on the ice. Thank God.

Kyrie sighed in relief and begun climbing again.

When she finally reached the top, she quickly turned around to help Roach and the Captain up.

"Alright you two," Mactavish says, blowing on his gloved hands as a natural reaction, "Take out your ACR's and activate the heart beat sensors. The blue dots are us, while the enemy will show up white."

Mactavish looked up into the sky suddenly, "Storm's brewing." Kyrie jerked her head in a "Yeah, I know. Can we please move our sorry asses faster; because I'm pretty sure I can't feel mine?"

Walking along the wide, snowy mountain path they came across three tangos. One was smoking towards the back and the other two were chatting away when they were supposed to be looking for enemies. Live and learn, right?

Wait a minute.

Oh…right, never mind. Not the best fitting saying.

"These poor moppets have no idea we're here." Mactavish motions for Kyrie to get the one in the back; putting his finger on his lips, telling her to do it without getting the other twos attention.

Of course, the only person here who got average on the evaluation for stealth is being sent to kill someone without getting the others attention who are literally right in front of said man.

Kyrie thinks he did it on purpose.

"As soon as Kyrie takes him out, take the one the left, Roach," Mactavish said, gesturing to the two men in front of the other man.

Kyrie quietly walks swiftly forward, her footsteps light and practiced, silent as the wind on a calm day. Like a ghost, she draws her knife; rapidly clamping her hand on the man's mouth, she drags him to some outcropping of rocks; hiding in the shadows under them.

The other men didn't even take notice. God, were they deaf?

She plunges her knife in the man's throat, her hand still clamped tightly on his mouth. As a fatality gurgle slipped out and the men were just about to turn around to see what happened, Roach and Mactavish popped them right in the cranium.

"Can't say they couldn't have stopped that from happening," Kyrie said, sheathing her knife.

Roach nodded like a bobble head.

"Let's go," Mactavish said, "We still have a mission to do, ya'know."

The next time they came across an enemy patrol made of two tangos, Kyrie and Roach took care of them.

When they finally reach the entrance of the base, Mactavish spots a ledge, "I'll cover you two from this ledge here, while you two plant the C4. Use the storm for cover, they won't be able to see you till you're up close and personal," Mactavish explains, looking from the right side of the base to the left, "Kyrie take the west and Roach take the east side."

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

><p>On the west side of the base seems to be entirely made of another hangar, Kyrie notices. '<em>So, what Mactavish really meant was that he'd cover Roach, not me<em>,' Kyrie thought.

There is one lone guard standing at the door, falling in and out of a muddled dream of a party and hookers. Wanting to fall asleep for good, he walks inside the undersized control room that's attached to the hangar. Taking a seat in the tiny computer chair, he leans back, only to see the leering beam of a knife.

"Sweet dreams," Kyrie says, continuing onward.

Taking a look around the place, she sees several MIG-19 and other wrecked aircrafts.

"Oh, I get it. It's a repair hangar," Kyrie beams, "I bet if I blew this stuff up, they'd be pretty pissed."

After she's done planting the C4, she starts to head towards Roach's objective, just for fun.

_Well, that wasn't very hard. Hmm, I wonder how Roach is doing._

* * *

><p>Roach kept a constant eye on his heartbeat monitor, just as he was about to kill a tango, he fell down to the ground dead.<p>

"Got him," his ear piece crackled to life.

"You totally just stole my kill, man."

"Get over it."

Ah, good Ol Mactavish.

Treading silently into a small building, he shot the man fully awake with his silenced ACR. The man, resting on the chair almost got to his feet before Roach pumped him full of lead. Almost.

"Careful, Roach. A convoy is comin' your way, stay hidden."

Roach was just about to walk out of the building when Mactavish said this; he rapidly jumped back in the small building, making sure the bodies were out of sight.

He hears the vehicle and sees the shining taillights; Just as quickly as it'd come, it quickly disperses.

Taking up a light jog, he heads toward his objective, ready to plant the C4.

"Roach! Convoy's coming back, hide!"

"Really!" Roach whispers angrily, hiding behind some crates.

"Shit Roach, they're getting out, looking around for something," Mactavish says nervously, "Don't engage them yet. It could be a false alarm."

One of the Russians radios crack to life and the others listen intently. One of the men said something in Russian and they all got back in the car.

Roach continued to wait for the all clear, "Alright mate, all clear."

Roach comes out from his hiding position, stretches, and takes up the steady jog he had before towards the objective.

He plants the C4 on the fueling station and clicks on his earpiece, "Alright Mactavish, I'm done, I'm assuming to go to the northern hangar to retrieve the ACS."

"Kyrie's on route to your position, so watch out for friendlies."

"Got it," Roach says, yawning.

"C'mon idiot, we have to head to the hangar."

Roach, if he didn't suck at jumping, would've have jumped in thirty feet in the air.

"Wha… How? When the Hell did you get here," Roach's shouts quietly. Well, as quiet as you can get while shouting.

"I've been here for the past five minutes; you just decided to ignore me! I called your name like five times!"

"Really…Man, I'm not even drunk. I'm really out of it today," Roach says, confused.

"Forget it, let's just go."

"Fine," Roach says, walking towards the BMP which signifies where the hangar is.

"Not that way, idiot!" Kyrie shouts, "That BMP has thermal sights! We have to go around!"

Roach spins around like a record and jogs towards Kyrie; he laughs, "I knew that."

"Sure, you did," Mactavish comments over the radio, "Just like you know the whole Barbie girl theme song."

Silence.

"Are you serious?"

"Yep."

Kyrie tries to hold in laughter, but fails and bursts into fits of it.

"IT WAS A DARE FROM MEAT!"

* * *

><p>"<em>C'mon man, I'm bored as fuck. Why can't we do anything," Meat complained, jumping up from the uncomfortable futon he was lying on, "And Ghost and Mactavish are like fuckin' zombies. Ghost is sleeping and Mactavish is reading some porn book."<em>

"_It's Romeo and Juliet, dumbass. It's not porn," Mactavish corrected without even looking away from the book._

"_What ever."_

_Ghost was sleeping in one of the two recliners in the break room, snoring lightly. His muscles were relaxed and tranquil; they weren't tight and round up like during the day. _

_I guess it could be called "cute" but that skull balaclava was minus major points in that aspect._

"_Play…truth or dare, or something," Royce suggested, shrugging._

"_Aha! Good idea, Royce," Meat beamed, "Alright, who's playing?"_

_No one raised their hands. Normally, Roach would be the one in Meat's position, but today? Nope, add one more brush with death to Roach's tallies._

_Roach has brushed with death so often that he's seriously considering giving him a high five when he passes._

"_Fine, no takers," Meat started, an evil grin tugging at his lips, "then I'll choose who plays."_

_Several men groaned inwardly, others actually moaned out loud._

"_Nah, man."_

"_No."_

"_Too tired, go away."_

"_You guys are acting like old men, C'mon, act like you're still alive," Meat says frustrated._

_Roach moans, "I won't be alive much longer if you continue talking. My ears are bleeding. Can't you just shut up for one minute Meat?"_

"_No,__ but you are definitely playing now."_

"_Fuck."_

"_Alright, truth or dare, Roach," Meat says like some highly entertained child._

"_No, since I'm playing, I should get to ask you."_

"_Fine, I choose dare then."_

_Roach smiles evilly, "Alright, I dare you to wake Ghost up and…"_

"_No, you already gave the dare. Wake Ghost up, Got it," Meat interjected._

"_LET ME FINISH! You have to wake Ghost up by shaking him and screaming that he knocked up Mactavish or somebody."_

_Roach's head was then hit with a flying hardcover book of Romeo and Juliet._

"_Just say his girlfriend," Archer said awkwardly, "I'm pretty sure Mactavish and Ghost aren't gay."_

"_Damn straight."_

"_I was joking," Roach defended himself, "That's what would make it hilarious."_

"_Whatever, I'm just gonna do it," Meat yawned._

_Meat tip-toed up to Ghost, grabbing his shoulders lightly, he suddenly began shaking them with all his strength._

"_GHOST, YOU KNOCKED UP YOUR GIRLFRIEND! WAKE UP!"_

_Ghost's eyes shoot open; he screams seeing an identified face and automatically kicks at the lower portion of its body._

"_FUCK!"_

_Ghost looks down to see Meat rolling on the ground in pain, holding his sensitive area. He looks up to be greeted with every squad member laughing their asses off, pointing at Meat; even Mactavish was laughing._

_Then Ghost burst out in laughter, finally figuring out what happened, "Were you guys playing truth or dare again?"_

"_Yup, how'd you know?" Roach says giddily, almost being comprehensible from his laughter._

"_Really, let me see," Ghost said, putting his finger on his chin, "maybe because of the fact that this is the third time this happened this month."_

_Meat jumps up, flinching in pain, and points at Roach, "Okay, your turn, bastard."_

_Roach sighs, "Fine, just hurry up. I'm getting kinda tired."_

"_I dare you to memorize the Barbie girl theme song, and then perform it for us. All of us."_

"_I hate you."_

"_I know."_

* * *

><p>When Kyrie and Roach finally got to the hangar Mactavish was already there, coming out of literally nowhere.<p>

"Took the scenic route, eh," Mactavish said, smirking, "C'mon, we still have a mission to complete."

Pushing the door to the hangar open, Mactavish spots a guard and quickly runs forward, dispatching him with his knife. They jog inside, Kyrie and Mactavish already working on wiring C4 to one of the Mig-19s.

"Roach, head up stairs and look for the ACS," Mactavish says not looking away from his bombs.

Roach jogs up the stairs, one at a time. Snooping around, he comes across the ACS on a table in the back of the room.

He suddenly hears the bangs and creaks of the hangar door opening.

"Roach, we've been compromised," Kyrie whispered into the earpiece.

"Stay hidden and wait for my order," Mactavish whispered.

'_Shit. Shit. Shit. They must've discovered the bodies or something,' Roach silently panicked inside his head, 'Crap. What if they found the __C4?'_

"We know that there must be at least three of you here. If the other soldier does not come forth, we will kill your comrades," the commander said, at least Roach was guessing he was the commander.

"5…"

"Get ready for plan B."

"4…," the man counted down as Roach silently pulled out the detonator.

"3…"

"2…"

"NOW!"

The entire based behind the Russian soldiers, erupted into flames. Using the distraction of the C4, Kyrie and Mactavish downed several men.

Roach had already flown down the stairs in record speed. In fact, he was shooting several tangos already.

"Let's run for the Evac," Mactavish shouted, running forward.

"RUN!" Kyrie shouted, "To where!"

"We'll improvise, just hurry the Hell up!"

"Roach see that Mig-19. Try to get it running, Raven and I will cover you!"

Roach sprinted towards the aircraft, just as he was close enough to see it clearly, it blew up.

"Not an option anymore, Sir!"

They ran towards a ledge, hoping it didn't lead right of the mountain. Seeing it didn't' they slid down the snow/ice to the foundation. They looked back; the Russians were on the hill, but not daring to come down. They didn't even bother to kill them; at this range it was almost unattainable to hit a target.

That's when they heard the grrr of a machine.

GRRR! GRRR! GRRR!

Scratch that; make it more than a few machines.

Seconds later, two snowmobiles roar down the hill and attempt to run the three over. They barely dodge and gun down their owners before numerous other snowmobiles appear over the top of the hill.

Mactavish hops on one of them and points towards the other one, "You two take that one. Roach drive, Kyrie cover and shoot!"

Roach hops on, Kyrie quickly following. "Follow me!" Mactavish shouts, revving the engine and taking off.

The machine beneath Roach roared to life and he took off towards the way Mactavish went. It was when he heard bullets whiz by his head that he decided to look back.

Following them were numerous Russian soldiers on snowmobiles, all shooting at them.

"I'm starting to think we should have blown up the snowmobiles instead of the Migs," Roach comments, leaning forward to avoid bullets.

"I agree," Kyrie said, gritting her teeth; shooting at some of the more annoying follows.

"Shit," Mactavish shouts into his ear piece, "They have a Heli armed with rockets! Just dodge them!"

"Easier said than done," Roach responded back with a shout, dodging a missile.

It seemed they were on top of a solid lake of ice; it was quite a pretty sight until someone blew it up.

They're off the lake almost as quick as they came upon it, now they are going down a slick, snow-covered hill, dodging rocks, trees, and enemy snowmobiles.

Going at record speed, they come across a giant gorge.

"JUMP IT!"

Jumping over a three mile deep gorge on a snowmobile is nothing like being in plane. And no, it's not like flying, either.

It felt like you were being suspended from a single string that stopped you from falling; like bungee jumping. You had to hope like Hell that it lasted long enough to hold you up.

This time though, the string was momentum; they had to hope it was strong enough.

Thank god it was. They reached the LZ where Kilo Six-One was waiting and jumped off of their snowmobiles and hopped in the Helicopter.

"That was fun," Kyrie smiled, almost bouncing off her seat, "We should do it again."

Mactavish and Roach looked at her; Okay, looked isn't the word, more like gaped at her.

"You can't be serious…." Mactavish said.

"Oh, Yeah!" Roach said in mock enthusiasm, "How bout no."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Please review, pass it around, read more, read my other story. I'm desperate. REMEMBER no major flames, okay. Will take ideas and criticism. one more thing, this story will have made up missions in it. Ever wonder what the 141 was doing when Ramirez was to busy doing everything for the 75th. Now you can find out. I'll be doing "No Russian" for the next chapter which I'm almost done with. (I'm actually happy with the way it's turning out) then I'll combine Take down and Hornet's Nest for chapter 4 and then I will have a made up mission / chapter which I'm not sure I want to include in the actual story/plot or in the actual story at all. What do you guys think? Should I write the filler chapter and include it in the story or write it as a separate story and have it connected to the story and have it an optional read. Tell me! REVIEW! let me know!


	3. No Russian

**AN: **Hey guys. I'm seriously proud of the way this turned out. It's way descriptive. I'll warn you though, there's not a lot of humor in it :P. Now, this happens BEFORE Kyrie is part of the 141, hence why Allen doesn't know she's there. You'll have to read to figure out what I mean. YAY, I gave Allen a back story which I'm proud to present. I think I did a fairly decent job on it, and gave it a lot of thought as to WHY Allen joined the military in the first place. I also figured he'd come from New York, which is quite easy to describe (Although I'm not describing the pretty parts mind you). Since, the characters come from the dirtier parts of new york I'd figured they'd know how to swear without really understanding the concept...You know what, just read, I'll tell in the other author note thing I do at the end. Anyways, I did most of this chapter after midnight on several occasions, therefor, if you see any mistakes, that's why. Also, inform me of them so I can fix them for others. Oh, I finished this at 1:30 in the morning btw.

Usually I do a reviewers thing, but I packed my ipod (which I read my email off, instead of the computer cuz it freezes when I do so x_x ) to go to the beach later today (Since its after midnight) for a full week. So yeah, I made sure to post this chapter so you guys wouldn't wait to long to get another update. I already make you guys wait long enough. Anyways, that's why I can't do reviewers, sorry. BUT YOU PEOPLE KNOW WHO ARE! THANK YOU ALL FOR REVIEWING!

Hey, don't forget to tell me what you guys want me to do with my missions. Check the end author's note in chapter 2 for details if you haven't seen it already.

* * *

><p>Chapter 3<p>

No Russian

The elevator ascended slowly, the weight of his gun was burdening, and the thoughts of what PCF Joseph Allen was about to do caught up with him at a breath taking speed; hitting as hard as tsunami.

Shepard was right. This is going to cost him a piece of himself that he will most likely never get back. It will be gone forever, like a wisp of smoke, and all that will remain is a layer of honey thick regret.

He wondered though, _why go through all of this trouble. Why can't I just kill him now?_ It didn't make sense.

Right in front of him was a man, tough looking, Russian, with raven black hair and eyes that shined with glee, like a child's on Christmas morning. Why couldn't he be like one of those suicide bombers and kill him now? Sure the three other men would figure out that he was an undercover soldier and would most likely fill him with enough lead that he'd drown.

Or maybe, they would call off the operation, take him far away, and torture him. No, they probably wouldn't do that. Risk being discovered, spending money, and flying on an American plane were probably not very high on their funniest things to do list. Or maybe, it was. He didn't really know.

Maybe they liked danger. And death. And blood that falls to the ground like a silent waterfall; peaceful and relaxing.

He didn't.

Why did he join the army in the first place?

How did he get here anyway? Why was he here with all this sweat, blood, and inner turmoil?

Oh. That's right. It was her. That girl; the girl with caramel eyes filled with determination and too soft features for such a fiery girl.

New York was his favorite city. Want to know why?

He met her there. Injured and dying; yet still refusing medical care. She said the scar would make her look cool.

He never found out if it looked cool or not because he never saw her again.

* * *

><p><em>He was walking down one of the many dark and dirty alleyways when he heard sirens. Close. Too close for comfort in his opinion.<em>

_He started up a brisk walk, kicking leaves and cans out of the way. He didn't do anything, but the police wouldn't hesitate to arrest him. _

_A shady figure that looked beat up and poor walking around in a dark alleyway could be considered suspicious. He didn't really care if they caught him; it's not like he wanted to go back home anyway. It's not like anybody was worried that he wasn't home yet. It was already a little bit after one in the morning._

_In fact, if he had to guess; they were probably hoping he wasn't coming back. __**Ever**__. _

_Joseph Allen was thirteen years old and despite being poorer than a brick, he had well defined muscles, sharp features, and icy blue eyes. He looked older than he was; he could easily pass for six-teen if he had the desire to. His mop of dirty blonde hair sat atop his head in a slightly less ugly bed head way. He hated his name._

_Joseph was okay, he didn't mind that part, but his last name was a different story._

_It belonged to that scum-bag of a man-whore who let his eyes and hands wonder whenever she wasn't looking. It belonged to him who smelled of alcohol and spoiled milk. It belonged to the man, who took showers only when he could smell himself; which was rare because he was always sick and had constant nose blockage. _

_The name Allen belonged to his father; the cheating, repulsive, obese man who could not hold down a job flipping burgers. Not to mention he drinks. And smokes. All the time__._

"_I'm sorry, dear," his mother would say, "But if I didn't marry him, you would be in an orphanage or worse, dead." She had been sprouting that lie ever since he was eight. A mere child when the lie slipped past her light pink lips, he believed it. He trusted her. He loved her. Why wouldn't he? She was his mother; the most loving, caring, beautiful, trustworthy woman he had ever known or seen._

_Spending all that time with __**him**__ changed her though. She was no longer the kind, strong-willed woman he once knew but instead an ugly witch who sold herself. She tried to hard with the slutty outfit and bright, colorful make-up. _

_Vibrant blue eye shadow hid her once kind green eyes. She died her hair to black instead of the golden waves she once possessed. She covered pink lips with dark, violent shades of red; like blood__ was slathered on her lips like paint. Her shirt never longer than her belly-button; and that was rare. No more shorts either, just skirts that barely covered her ass._

_She filled her days with meaningless smiles and words. She herself reeked of alcohol and just seemed to ooze "I'm a whore"; Not that the outfit and makeup didn't speak for itself._

_He guessed that maybe it wasn't his entire fault. His step-father's that is. _

_Who he really thought was responsible for this dramatic change was his father. His __**real **__father._

_His father had black hair and icy blue eyes that saw right through you and into your soul. He had a kind smile and even though his eyes were colder than the North Pole when he wanted them to be; they always seemed to be filled with pride or happiness whenever he was around him or his mother._

_Then he went to join the army when he was seven and everything seemed to crash and burn; slowly though. Too slow for anyone to notice but him._

_She started crying more, started to stay out later and later every night; sometimes not returning till morning. The she fell asleep and was late for work. Then she was late again. And again. And again. It was like a broken record; around it went, around in circles; over and over and over again._

_Then they got a call about three months later._

_That time mommy left and didn't come back for two whole days. Somehow the little boy had survived on what was left in the fridge and pantry. He asked and asked and asked again, only to have her tell him to go away and play._

_Around in circles the record went. Around, around, and around again, like some kind of demented merry go-round._

_When she brought __**him **__home, he was having his eighth birthday party. He was sturdy but fit and had a kind face. Many mothers' of his friends asked why she was with another man. He finally figured out why she was so distant as of late._

"_Who is that man," questioned Laurie, her petite form showing signs of hesitation. She pointed towards the man who was currently busying himself playing pin the tail on the donkey with the kids. The other women nodded and gave questioning looks; most of which were trying to cover up the accusing look they wanted so badly to dominate their faces._

"_Well, Jack went off to join the army, as you all know," She said, distant and interested, "I got a call a few weeks back that he was…KIA."_

_Gasps of surprise sounded and quickly followed by "I'm so sorry." And "Is there anything we can do to help."_

_That's when Joseph decided to round the corner. His small, boyish form had gone unnoticed because he had pushed himself against the wall and stayed still as a statue. He was surprised no one saw him before now. One lady was practically staring at him the entire time._

"_What's KIA mean?" He shouted like any other kid would when asking a question. One little girl who had on a blue party dress with a blue ribbon in her hair ran up quickly and said, "Killed in action, I think." This girl was at least ten and had heard plenty of war stories from her grand father._

_He found out his father was dead on his eighth birthday. He knew what killed meant._

_Gone. Never coming back. No more baseball. No more video games. No more eyes that shined with pride. No more. Gone. Gone forever._

_He ran after that, he didn't know where he ended up. Authorities found him later in a dry cement pipe shivering and starved._

_He kicked another can out of his way, the sirens still blaring. They sounded like police sirens. Maybe he should go home._

_Out of literally fucking no where some one crashed into him. He felt something wet on his shirt and lips. Out of instinct he licked his lips and immediately turned and spit. It was definitely not water; it had some kind of metal taste in it. Gross. What the fuck did he just lick off his lips?_

_His thought web was shattered as he was roughly man-handled and picked off the ground._

"_I'm sorry!"_

_Was that a girl's voice, or was it some very girly sounding man. It had happened before; he wasn't counting the possibility out yet._

"_You know, you should wear brighter clothing if you're gonna be depressed in an alleyway!"_

_Oh, so now it was his fault. This girl must be on her period; what a major mood swing._

"_Fuck you," he said out of instinct. If you don't know how to respond, just say Fuck you. It works half the time. The other half of the time you get whacked on the head with an old lady's purse._

_But, he guessed there was now a 0000.1% chance of being greeted with a venomous voice and a drop kick to the stomach._

_He registered the ground before the pain and it only took him a second to bounce back up, ready to go all out and kick this girl's ass; police sirens or no._

_Now that he thought about it, those sirens seemed closer. Did they get closer? _

_Out of no where the girl grabbed his hand and pulled him down an alleyway he hadn't explored yet, "Come on," she shouted, "We have to hide."_

_They made another sharp right turn and he was pulled to the ground. He looked around to be greeted with the musty, dirty, cement pipe._

_No wonder he didn't remember that alleyway, he was only eight when he first traveled through it and managed to find the pipe they were currently sitting in. He sat there shivering because of the rain._

_This time he was fuming and confused._

_He heard the girl's quick, quiet breathes return to a steady pace and decided to ask the question that was waiting to rip from his lips._

"_Who the Hell are you?" They both questioned._

_They chuckled and the boy looked her over. Despite the fact she was probably no more than ten she still had some muscles and her chocolate hair which was almost black in the night was hanging loosely in a ponytail. Then he noticed dark black streaks on her cheek and around her neck._

"_Holy God, you're bleeding!"_

"_Huh," the girl said looking down, "Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Do have any bandages with you or some drugs to ease the pain?"_

"_Drugs," He shouted, "What makes you think I have any drugs?"_

"_You're a drug dealer aren't you?"_

_If you could sweat drop in real life, he would have. "No, I'm just an ordinary thirteen year old boy."_

"_Then, why are you out here at two in the morning wondering around with dark clothes on?"_

"_Why are you bleeding?" Reflecting a question with another question almost always works._

"_Touché."_

"_Anyways," He said, "Who are you and why are you bleeding?"_

"_My name is Kyrie Wade. Who are you?" She asked._

"_You didn't answer my second question," He pointed out._

"_You didn't answer my first one," She reeled, "It's your turn to answer."_

"_Fine, Joseph Allen. Happy?"_

"_Very," She smiled brightly._

"_Now, tell me why you're bleeding?" He demanded._

_She laughed, "A gang did it." He was just about to ask why when she said, "I don't know why."_

_**Lie, lie, **__**and lie, **__she thought. She knew why, in a sense. It was her dad. She knew that much. She just didn't know what they wanted with him and they had absolutely refused to tell her. _

_Kyrie looked at him; his bitter and isolated stare, uneasy and defensive position, his body racking with shivers. Something happened here, she guessed. Something dreadful or erroneous; he looked…miserable._

"_Hey," She said gently, shaking his shoulder, "Are you okay, you look a little pale? Are you cold?"_

_Why was he still here? Why didn't he just get up and walk away; she probably wouldn't follow if he did, but the concern that he heard in her voice was unmistakable. He hadn't heard concern in anybody's voice for a while now. He almost forgot what it sounded like._

_Why did he get this…feeling that she felt his pain, somehow, someway? And why did she care? Why did she bother to drag him along with her instead of just leaving him standing there dumbstruck until the cops came and arrested him? Why? It didn't make any sense._

"_Why," Allen whispered. He didn't know why he asked. What was he asking when he said that?_

_Why did she help him?_

_Why did his mom go with that jerk?_

_Why did she change?_

_Why…why did he die? Why did his dad die?_

_Why his dad? Why him?_

_She looked at him solicitously, "I don't know. Can you tell me what happened?"_

_So he told her. __**Everything. **__He told her about his dad and his eyes always shining with pride and his mom always so sweet and amusing. Then how his dad joined the army, how he said he'd be back, how they got the call. How he found out. His eighth birthday. The little girl in the blue dress. He told her everything and once he started he couldn't stop; not until he ran out of breath and couldn't talk anymore. His body was racking with dry sobs and he wasn't shaking anymore, surprisingly._

_She never interrupted once; even when she wanted him to elaborate she kept his mouth shut._

_The sobs stopped and were soon replaced with a burning face and a grumpy grunt and a turning of the head._

"_I'm sorry," She whispered._

_It was that effortless for him. He realized those words were all he required to hear. Ever since his father died, no one said a word to him. Not. One. Word. That was all it took to take an intense burden off his mind that he didn't even know existed._

"_You told me a lot; it's only fair I give you something in return, no?" She said this as she slowly backed up to get out from the dirty pipe, him following suite almost immediately after._

_He rotated to look at her fully, once out of the pipe, getting a good look at her in the illuminating streetlight._

_She was wearing dark-wash denim shorts and a green, neon-colored tank top which had splotches of blood here and there from her injury. For a child she was rather muscular and toned and her skin was a pale sun-kissed. Her shoes were simple black and green Nikes and her hair was shining from the street lamp and was tied in two low, loose, side ponytails that made her look like she was going to go hiking. Her caramel twisted eyes shone with sympathy and had pale, barely noticeable bags under them._

"_How old are you," the question slipped through his lips__ as they sat down on the cement. She looked…fourteen?_

"_Ten."_

"_Holy fuck", he thought._

"_Hey, can I trust you with a secret?"_

_He looked up, surprised._

"_What?"_

"_Can I trust you," she inquired again._

_No? Yes?_

"_Yeah, you can trust me."_

_She smiled something which he assumed was rare, "Okay. You asked about the gang and you were about to ask why, right?"_

"_Mmhm."_

"_It's my dad."_

_He shot up from his seat on the pavement at the comment, "What!"_

"_Sit down and stop yelling, someone will hear us. I'll explain."_

_He sat down; still staring at her with a glare that she could've sworn would _turn her_ into stone like Medusa._

"_My dad is in the military, a captain, I think," She said looking confused for a moment before continuing, "Anyways, I guess that gang must've had something to do with the last war and they were pissed we won, so they found out one of the squad members name and broke into the files, probably. Trying to get revenge, ya'know. They found out he had a daughter so they went after me, I guess they didn't know I was a kid before they came," She laughs._

"_You guess," He asked weakly._

_She nodded, "I know he's very important to the government and must have a ton of classified information. They were probably using me to try to get to him. Too bad they were guys."_

_He looked up at her, "What do you mean by that?"_

"_They had me tied up in a chair and they were interrogating me with means of fairly harmless torture…"_

"_HARMLESS!"_

"_SHHH," She said, "Listen before you change into incredible hulk and smash stuff to bits, okay."_

_He sat back down and nodded his head, taking a deep breath._

"_Anyways, I had a pocket knife in my back pocket," She said, sliding the tool out of her back pocket as a form of demonstration, "And I was cutting away at the bonds when he cut down from my cheek to my collar bone and stabbed it-"_

"_Stabbed," He nearly shouted, "That's it, I'm taking you to the hospital." He grabbed her wrist and pulled with all his strength; she let out mild profanities before she suddenly shouted, "NO!" She shouted, more thunderous than she wanted it to be, "I mean, c'mon, the scar will look cool." She pulled her hand away and went to sit back down. He followed silently._

"_You still get a scar even if you get stitches," He informed her. He had a scar on his thigh from jumping off the swing set when he was six and busting his leg from the upper thigh to about his knee. He had to get stitches without anesthesia because the doctor had to stop the bleeding immediately. That hurt like a bitch._

"_They'll give you anesthesia, you won't feel a thing," he said, trying to convince her and so very evidently failing._

"_Yeah, but that costs money and they'll known where I am and where to find me because I'll have to use their credit card."_

"_Huh?"_

"_Oh yeah, my mom married this jerk without telling my dad, so technically she's cheating on him. I ran away from home a few days ago. I've seen missing posters everywhere and stuff."_

_So…his feeling was right. Both of their moms married total jerk weeds. She did know exactly what he was going through. He kinda felt like asking if her mom was a whore, maybe they did threesomes together._

"_Was that why the police were there?"__ Yeah, he decided against that concept fairly quickly._

"_Nah, somebody heard me screaming, I guess."_

"_I thought you said it was harmless," He said, narrowing his eyes._

"_Yeah, I'm aware. I never said that it didn't hurt like a bitch, though," She pointed out, "What I meant by harmless was non-lethal. You know, I wouldn't be six feet under." _

"_Right," He said and she nodded, "Hey wait," He said, realizing something._

"_Huh? What?"_

"_Isn't that illegal?"_

"_What torturing? You can bet your white ass it-"_

"_No," He said promptly, "marrying somebody even though you're already married. That's illegal. You need to have a divorce." _

"_Technically, there is one," she forlornly stated._

"_Wha-"_

"_Counterfeit signatures go a long way."_

"_Oh."_

_Damn, his mom wouldn't go that far. Or maybe she would have, who knows?_

"_What are you going to do when you grow up?" She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye before sighing and spiraling to face him._

_He didn't know where the question originated or why it slipped pass his lips but he was honestly curious. However the better question would have probably been "What are you going to do now" but it came out wrong. He really needs to start thinking about what he's going to say before he says it._

"_Wow, the question right outta kindergarten, huh," she laughed lightly, "I plan to be in the military, like my dad. A sergeant maybe."_

"_Cool," he muttered halfheartedly._

_She smiled calmly before turning to leave, "Wait! Where are you going," he shouted, not bothering to keep his voice at a respectable volume._

"_Home, where ever the Hell that is" came the reply, "You should go home too; it's dangerous."_

_He made no move to stop her from leaving; he figured she was faster than him anyway. And by the way she seemed to know exactly where she was going as they were running away from the police enforced his idea that she lived somewhere around here, and has probably been in New York City all her life._

_Rumor has it, true New Yorkers know their way around everywhere._

_Even though Joseph has lived here seven of his thirteen years here, he still gets confused by the twisting turning alleyways and so cobble stoned shortcuts to his favorite places. _

_One time he intended to go to the deli and buy a sandwich since his mother was to piss drunk to even pick herself off the floor. He went down his usual shortcut only to discover he went to the shortcut that led to the docks instead of the deli._

_The shortcuts were ten city blocks away from each other. He had to admit, he didn't really have an excuse for that one._

_He watched her retreating form until it turned the corner of the alleyway. He sighed; he didn't want her to go. He had finally found someone who got him, someone who had all the keys to his locks, and he just let her walk away._

_He then decided against all rational thoughts and picked himself off the ground, almost tripping as he did so. He sprinted around to be greeted by a heavy three A.M fog and not a sound to be heard by his sensitive ears._

_He ran around the alleyways for the next hour, calling out her name, getting numerous people to stick their heads out of the dirty little windows screaming, "Shut the Hell up you dirty little crack head!" He didn't care though, he searched and searched to no avail._

"_KYRIE!" He screamed her name one last time; hope was already burning down when he met her, now it was just the ashen remains as no response sounded out as an indicator._

_He decided to take her advice, although she never recommended it. He turned and started walking, thinking about her. He wanted to see her one more time, at least. Then he remembered what she said, "I plan to be in the military, like my dad. A sergeant maybe." _

_Sticking his hands in his pockets, he felt something that had not been there before. He pulled out two twenty dollar bills and a coupon for a free meal from KFC._

"_The military, huh?" He smiled and kept up a steady pace as he walked in the opposite direction of "Home"._

"_I'll see you again, don't worry. I'll hunt you down if I have to."_

* * *

><p><em>Kyrie took a bite of the Hershey's chocolate bar that had been in her pocket for the last couple of hours. The sweet taste of the chocolate washed over her mouth in a moment of pure bliss.<em>

_So, there was another reason the police were after her. She stole eighty bucks and a candy bar from the movies. _

_The boy really was clueless; he didn't even feel her insert forty dollars and the coupon she pilfered from the poor lady's purse._

_She hoped he'd get the hint._

_In the distance, a familiar voice rang out, calling her name. She disregarded it and continued her stride into the unknown._

* * *

><p>Joseph Allen slowly stepped out of the elevator, gun at the ready. He rotated to look at all of the people he was about to brutally murder. Maybe one of them was a suicide bomber, maybe some were drug dealers.<p>

Knowing his life, all of them would have family. Kids. A wife. A husband. Mother, father, sister, brother. He knew with each person who fell, he would take someone's lifeline away.

They looked on curiously, wondering why these men had guns. Their poor minds too slow to comprehend what was happening.

"Remember," Makarov said, "No Russian."

Allen and the three men hoisted their guns up, flares of recognition and fear lit up in most of the peoples' eyes. Others stood dumbstruck, paralyzed with fear, watching in horror as person after person fell in a bloody mess until the exploding pain of a bullet brought them back to reality. Appalling and vile reality where a massacre was taking place right before their hazy, shock filled eyes.

That is until they slowly fluttered shut as a final goodbye.

Allen wanted so very badly to stitch his eyes up with the thickest string imaginable, the pain as his punishment.

He knew though, if even so much as twitched in any manner of repulsion, he'd be found out. The mission would be over and America would be nothing more than a smoldering hot pile of ashes with no embers to ever spark up again. Makarov would stomp around and piss on the ashes before the fire even had a chance to spring back to life in a newfound, burning intensity as America often did.

So Allen trudged through like a wind-up toy soldier, telling himself over and over again that it was for the greater good. He kept his eyes open though for signs, indicators that they were actual people with lives, family, and friends. He kept an especial eye out for kids. They wouldn't kill kids, would they? He wasn't taking that chance.

More often than not he would see that promise around someone's finger and he'd hesitate, just for a second, before killing them.

He wondered if that ringed hand had held a child's hand before. If it had held their new born baby.

He slowly jogged forward, approaching the ambulance that they were supposed to make their escape with.

"That was some message," the one man said.

"No," Makarov said, spinning around to face Allen who was trying to hoist himself up, "This is a message."

He put the pistol to Allen's head, and before Allen could blink, he felt a searing pain in his head and a high pitched ringing in his ears.

"Stupid American thinks he could fool us."

_I failed. I failed her. I'm sorry, Kyrie. I couldn't save you; I couldn't save anyone._

No, in the end, he couldn't even save himself.

In the back of his mind, as the life ebbed out of him into the sticky red liquid on the floor, he wondered; what did it cost to get him there, beside Makarov.

Shepard said it wouldn't even compare to the things he'd save.

He was right, it didn't compare to anything because he couldn't save anything. Instead, he helped to burn it down.

Makarov was probably already stomping around on the ashes.

* * *

><p>I told you I was proud of it, didn't I. Question is, are you guys happy with it? I'm sorry I din't write about the whole mission and him killing everybody with Makarov and the three other guys. I just couldn't figure out how to write that. You basically walk around and kill people. The only real challenge is the riot shield guys near the end of the level and even then it can't really be counted as a challenge because you have a grenade launcher. Any-who, if you want me to actually write that out and crap, tell me. I'll do it, I just can't guarantee that it'll be any good.<p>

Anyways, about the swearing for them being so young. They live in the dirtier part of New York, you know, the numerous back alleys and back streets that lead to no where (I've never been to new york so bare with me, okay.) I figured there'd be alot of gangs so they just naturally hear swearing all the time and don't think much of it. Allen because of his drunken whore of a mother and Kyrie because she ran away and all. Running away greets you with terrifying things, I ran away when I was eight cuz I saw a story about it on the news and ran away...to a house six doors down. And I'll be damned if it wasn't terrifying for a girl of age eight to be chased by two dogs trying to eat your cheese stick.

**Roach:** Why the Hell did you have a cheese stick

I was hungry and planned to head to Florida, I needed energy no?

**Roach: **And you thought the house six doors down was Florida.

They had a sprinkler outside. I assumed it was the ocean.

**Roach:** I din't know it was possible for you to get any weirder and stupider than you are now, but I guess I was wrong.

_mumbles out something along the lines of "I'm going to kill you in the next chapter."_

**Roach:** What?

Nothing, I just said Review and sorry for the late update!

**Roach: **Oh okay.

Oh, I forgot.

**Roach: **Huh?

I DON'T"T OWN MODERN WARFARE 2 IN ANY WAY!

**Roach: **Ouch! Why did you scream it?

I had to make sure everybody heard me, or else I might get suspended. (Gasp)

**Roach: **I say we're better off without you

_You're definitely dead next chapter_

**Roach: **WHY ARE YOU MUMBLING! SPEAK UP!

ugh, whatever. Review please.


	4. Takedown

**AN: **(Barely avoids being hit with a rotten tomato) Ha! YOU MISS- (Gets hit with Mactavish's hardcover book of romeo and Juliet) I'm so sorry it took me this long to update. I know I went to the beach for a week with no wifi but that was two weeks ago or something. I'm sorry that it took so long. Anyways, I actually added what they say at the beginning of each level to this chapter just for the heck of it. I don't know if I'm going to do that for every chapter or not but I felt like doing it for this one so Yeah. Also, I still need to know if you guys want me to have the additional non-story line chapter in this story or just do it as a separate story altogether. Next chapter will be hornet's nest which I haven't even started, but if I remember right that level wasn't incredibly long either so check up on that. Another thing, Check out my story Merry Christmas Ghost which is not connected to this story and just a little thing my brain threw up. Hmmm, what else? I know I wanted to say something else about the story but can't remember. Shit. Oh well, it can't be that important if I forgot right? Oh, also, almost everything the team says in this chapter is exactly what they say in the mission take down. Anyways, time for reviewers who have hopefully not abandoned me. :(

**Micheal: **Thanks, I did work pretty hard on Allen's back story and I promise I'll try to update sooner.

**Leggo 16: **I go to public school. I know everything there is know that parents don't want me know. XD. Like I said I'm incredibly sorry for the late update and crap. I'll definitely try harder to update!

**Wildcat717: **Thank you, I'm surprised someone would actually use the word awesome to describe this sucky story of mine.

**Anonymous person: **Yeah, I'd certainly hope none of the 141 members are afraid of heights. I don't think that's actually possible that any 141 member can be afraid of heights cuz if you think about it, don't they ride helicopters and crap everyday. Plus in the mission "Soap on a rope" where you invade the gulag for prisoner 627, Roach and Mactavish sit on the teeny tiny edge of the helicopter and snipe people. Thank you for the compliment even though I don't know who you are. :D

**7red-charms: **Honestly, your name makes me think of lucky charms, the cereal. Anyways, I'm glad you like my story and actually think it's funny and realistic. I'm surprised you think either because you know me, my humor is weird and the fact that you think it has realism in it blows my mind. Thanks so much!

Okay, that's all for new reviewers. Thank you all so much for reviewing and reading and everything else! You all get a cookie or some shit! lol.

* * *

><p>Chapter 4<p>

"Takedown"

_The Russians ain't gonna let this massacre go answered. This is gonna get bloody-Ghost_

_Too late, Mate. Now, in the eyes of the world, they're the victims. No ones gonna say a word when the Russians club every American they can reach- Mactavish_

_Makarov was one move ahead. Now he's left thousands of bodies at the feet of an American- Shepherd_

_We're the only ones who knew it was Makarov's op- Mactavish_

_Our credibility died with Allen. We need proof- Kyrie_

_Follow the shell. Alejandro Rojas- Shepherd_

_Never heard of him, Sir- Mactavish_

_You know him as Alex the Red. He supplied the assault- Shepherd_

_One bullet to unleash the fury of a whole nation. This means…- Mactavish_

_He's our ticket to Makarov- Kyrie_

Kyrie looked down at the photo, the caption read "Alex the Red". Alex the Red was the one who supplied the assault at the airport. He supplied the bullet that killed Allen.

She couldn't believe that the name had gone in one ear and out the other, even though it was such a long time ago, she still remembered the boy with those icy blue eyes.

In a way, it was her fault he was dead. She was the one who told him to run away and be free from his horrid family, which probably lead to this.

She glanced up to see Roach completely focused on the van ahead of them, hands gripping the side of the chair so hard that his knuckles turned white.

She made sure to sneak a peak at Mactavish and make sure he wasn't looking, only for him to be staring intently at the van as well, before she gently tapped Roach's hand twice from her position from the backseat.

His eyes darted back towards her and his hands immediately flew towards his lap. So much for encouragement.

Ok, she admits, it was probably her fault the awkwardness in the small vehicle was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

Oh, who the Hell is she kidding, it's completely her fault.

_Stepping out of the shower and wrapping herself in a towel, Kyrie grabbed another smaller towel and begun to dry her hair. Looking around the small hotel bathroom she saw the typical stuff; complimentary bottle of shampoo in this not more than a five inch long bottle, conditioner (same as the shampoo, small and almost worthless after one use), toilet, shower, sink, lady products under the sink that WERE NOT hers. You know, the usual._

_ The 141 was currently stationed in a hotel near the Favelas, waiting for Rojas to make his move, whatever it might be._

_ Mactavish, Roach, and herself had arrived here via helicopter immediately after the operation at the snowy Russian base. That really freaked the locals out so much that they had offered to let them stay for free at their best hotel as long as they promised to keep the huge, flying, metal, man eating fly with the huge wings away from their crops._

_ She had tried to explain what it really was to the kids since they seemed scared out of their pants, but alas, she ended up scaring them for life with a story of how some one accidentally fell out and went splat._

_ Its things like that that stopped Kyrie from becoming a babysitter when she was younger. _

_ Ruffling her hair with the towel one last time and making sure the towel around her body was secure, she threw the small towel in the petite hamper in the corner of the room and opened the door to the shared room._

_ For a few extremely awkward moments, nobody dared to breath, until Mactavish broke the silence, "You've got an hour to get ready; Rojas is making his move."_

_ Kyrie still stood eerily still, face tinged a slight pink, facing the entire 141 team. Kyrie snapped out of her trance, still slightly amused at the pink that stained some peoples cheeks, "Got it. Now…unless you intend to pay me to strip, I suggest you get out of my room."_

_ Okay, even Mactavish felt the awkwardness with that comment. He decided to it brush away when Kyrie first appeared out of the shower but this time around he found that no matter how hard he tried to brush, push, hit, or shove, it simply would not go away._

_ Apparently, Ghost didn't seem to feel it because he jumped of the bed with a boing and walked out the door, stating a simple, "Cool, see you then," before exiting the small room. _

_ Everyone hastily left, following after the lieutenant. Her glance never left the door till it was shut. When she turned around to walk over to her small suitcase, she saw Roach's distinct muscular form sitting on top of the bed, messing around with a rubix cube. Huh, she didn't take him to be the puzzle solver type but, back to the matter at hand._

_ She cleared her throat in obvious annoyance, wanting him to leave so she could change and do her hair. He looked up for a brief second before returning his eyes to the multi-colored cube, twisting and turning it, trying to get all the sides to match._

_ Okay, now she was pissed. Her hair, even though it was partially dry, was still cold against the base of her upper back and neck. She wanted to be in warm clothes, not a soaking wet towel with the air conditioner blowing gently on her bare arms, legs, and face, making her shiver._

_ "Can you leave so I can change," Kyrie finally asked, finally getting the nerves to speak up, "This is my room."_

_ "It's our room, in case you've forgotten."_

_ "Chemo left."_

_ "So…"_

_ "Pfft, fine," Kyrie finally said, fed up with this. Then, something finally clicked in her mind. He wasn't trying to sneak a peak at her naked or anything perverted, he was just hassling her. Making fun of her, even, for what happened earlier; he saw her reaction and guessed that'd this be a really fun and rewarding way of pissing her off. She hates to say it, but it was working._

_ A light bulb went off in her head as she smiled evilly, turning around to walk to her dresser quickly before he could catch the grin. _

_ The dresser was conveniently placed in the middle of the two twin sized mattresses so she could easily achieve her quest of revenge._

_ Hastily grabbing her stuff from the drawer and laying it out on her bed she drops the towel and begins to change._

_ Roach suddenly laughs which surprises her but continues on messing with the zipper on her dark wash jean shorts she had slipped on not ten seconds before._

_ "What, crazy?"_

_ "I knew you wouldn't do it," Roach says cheekily in response._

_ "Do what," Kyrie pressed, turning around and faking curiosity.__ "Cha- Holy- What the Hell!"_

_ Roach was so surprised from what he saw when he turned around he actually fell off the bed, banging his head on the hard wood floors below._

_ Kyrie, generally concerned because she heard something make a sickening crack on the ground, jumped over the bed and kneeled down over Roach, assaulting him__ with questions._

_ "Are you okay? Should I get Mactavish?"_

_ Roach suddenly scooted backwards, using his feet to get as much distance from Kyrie as possible, especially in her current clothes._

_She wore short, cut off shorts; dark wash with a pure white skull with a pink polka-dotted black bow on top was on the pocket. She also sported a camouflage bra and a stomach __**models**__ would kill for._

_ As soon as she saw the absolutely stunned yet hilarious face that adorned his face she burst into laughter._

_ "That'll teach you for trying to piss me off," Kyrie said, still laughing as she tapped his mouth close, "Careful, bugs can fly in; that'd be gross."_

"Ghost, the plates are a match," Mactavish said into the earpiece calmly.

Mactavish's voice ripped Kyrie out of her thoughts and back into reality. The one where she'd get revenge on Makarov for everyone he's killed; including Allen.

"Copy," came Ghost's reply, "Any sign of Rojas's right hand man?"

"Negative," Mactavish responded back coolly, "We've stopped twice already; no sign of him."

Kyrie and Roach's eyes were fixated on the van when it suddenly pulled to a stop in front of a building. A man briskly walked out, looking almost worried.

"Wait," Kyrie started; only to have Mactavish finish the sentence for her.

"They stopped again; stand by."

"We have a positive I.D," Roach said, speaking up for the first time in nearly an hour.

"Whoever these guys are, they're not happy to see him," Kyrie commented; hand on her gun, just in case. The face of the men she was seeing were not ones of mutual trust but rather faces of anger; as in, if you take one step closer I'll make you look like Swiss cheese with a coating of ketchup on top.

Shots rang in the air before Roach's or Kyrie's minds could understand what had happened, Mactavish shouted, "Ghost! We have a situation here," one minute and then, "Get down! Get down," the next.

Luckily, there bodies seemed to like the idea of not being shot so they ducked like they were told to.

"He's getting away," Mactavish bellowed, "C'mon Roach, Kyrie, let's go, let's go!"

Jumping out of the car and slamming the doors behind them, they started running after Mactavish, who is still yelling into his earpiece.

"Ghost, the drivers dead! We're on foot; Meet us in the hotel Rio and cut him off if you can!"

"Roger! I'm on my way!"

Running along the streets was like a carnival when everyone figured out that the skeletons in the haunted house were real and were put there by the creepy clown with a "Fake" knife. Things were magically catching on fire, people screamed bloody murder, and you could hear the beeping of car alarms and horns.

Kyrie would have ran into a local if he hadn't seen her gun and run away screaming something she couldn't understand. It sounded like bitch but she couldn't really tell with all the screaming and the mayhem around her.

"He went into the alley," Mactavish barked.

"Non-lethal take downs only; we need him alive!"

The two sergeants would have jumped thirty feet in the air if they weren't busy at the moment. Neither of them had heard Ghost join the small formation they had going. He really was like a ghost sometimes.

Somehow, Kyrie had pulled ahead of the group, being leaner and faster then the muscled 141 members behind her; she reached the mouth of the alleyway first. She saw Rojas's right hand man and Mactavish gave the order, "Kyrie, take the shot; go for his leg!"

Raising her ACR and quickly snap aiming to his legs, she shot and hit the target dead on.

"He's down."

Smiling, she slowed down, letting the two strongest men, Ghost and Mactavish, handle him. Kyrie doubted he would put up a struggle but she wasn't in the mood to have a fist fight.

"Damn, you're fast."

Kyrie turned to be greeted by Roach's mild breathing form, his breathing already returning to normal.

Kyrie, however, could barely hear her own breaths. They had just gotten quicker, not heavier. That meant she was no where near her limit of speed or stamina. Running away from gangs, thugs, and the cops when she was younger had probably helped her today, no doubt about that.

"Yeah, no wonder she beat Shepard's record at the pit," Meat said, coming up from behind them.

"Hey you nancies! You wanna help us with this guy!"

The small team of soldiers turned around to the man to be struggling against the Captain and the Lieutenant. Every time they had actually managed to get him somewhat sitting in the chair, Mactavish would try to get the hand restraint on him, while he furiously kicked and attempted to punch the life out of Ghost.

Roach watched in interest as Kyrie walked up to the small storage like room and hopped up the two foot high wall and strolled right up to the struggling man.

She lifted her leg rather high, bending it, and suddenly forced the man down on the chair with her leg, her foot pressed against the man's lower chest.

His arms were still flailing about though, looking for punches, and Kyrie, getting frustrated, yelled out, "If you don't stop flailing your arms around like a drunken octopus; I swear to God I will break your ribs!"

Her foot was still pressed against his ribs as she pushed a little harder. Obviously not taking kindly to the threat or the insult, his punches began to search for the brunette. One finally landing on her shin, a bruise already beginning to form, Kyrie was fed up and brought back her foot, only to slam it back down on his ribs. _Hard._

They all heard the sickening cracks.

Having the breath knocked out him completely, he stopped flailing his arms for a second, enough time for the two superiors to lock up his arms.

Roach noticed how the man's lips were pursed, kind of like he was going to spit, he was about to call out a warning to Kyrie when he spit blood and saliva up at her.

She didn't even act like anything had happened. Calmly wiping her hand across the blood on her face until she was sure it was gone, she brought her hand down to look at it. It was a slimy red and just when Roach thought she was going to pull out a microscope to examine it more closely, she flicked her wrist and _another _snap was heard.

If they hadn't been looking at her hand, they would have missed it. All they would have saw was Rojas's buddy's head fly back and back again like a punching bag and all there would be to see was that he had a bloody nose.

She had clenched her hand, punched him, and unclenched her hand so rapidly; all they saw was a flick of the hand.

"Change of plans," Mactavish announced, breaking the silence, "Kyrie, you stay here; help us with him." Kyrie couldn't have stopped the slasher smile even if she wanted to; which she didn't.

Finally turning to the shocked team; or what was left of it, three men to be exact, Mactavish announced the plan, "Roach, this'll take awhile."

"Or not long at all," Kyrie murmured; her victim's eyes lighting up with panic as she said this.

Mactavish gave her the death glare but otherwise continued talking, "Take Meat and Royce up to the Favelas and see if you can find any trace of Rojas."

Grabbing the handle to close the door, Mactavish gave a nod of good luck as Kyrie smiled cheekily and waved.

Roach distinctively heard Ghost ask if Kyrie knew anything about torture over the sound of electrical energy.

"Oh yeah," She said, turning to grin at her victim, showing all of her teeth, "I took a class on it in high school."

Even though she was joking, Roach could still see the extreme raw terror in her prey's eyes.

The Favelas were a short distance from what Roach was sure was going to be that man's grave. He took the small steps up to the Favelas two at a time, barely hearing Royce say, "Remember, there are civilians in the Favelas; watch your fire."

The Favelas were obviously for the poorest of the poor. There was no real pavement for the passages that snaked around the Favelas to be called actual sidewalks and the houses roofs were mostly made up of sheets of scrap metal. Below them were two car frames; that's right, not a car but a car frame, black and charred.

All of the small and miniature buildings that made up the Favelas could not really be called houses; they were more like market stands but a little bit larger. As mentioned before there was no pavement, no roads, no houses, and no places of business. There was a lot of filth and people though.

"Meat, get these civvies outta here," Royce commanded.

"Roger," Meat said, jumping down from the ledge. Raising his gun in the air and firing a few bullets and screaming something in their native language made the civilians clear out, shrieking.

Shots rang out through the air fast as lightning, Roach felt ones air current literally blow against his ear. If that bullet had been an inch more to the left, he could've been a pirate. Ah, life's greatest disappointments.

The natural reaction to look around and see where the bullets came from almost overtook Roach but, he shoved it down and dived bombed for cover in a nearby red hut, knowing if he didn't the next shot wouldn't miss.

His head might pop off like a dandelion; can't have that now can we?

"I'm with you Roach; Watch the rooftops!"

So, Meat was following him. Where's Royce?

Roach, knowing that going out in the open would be suicide, took out his shotgun. If he was going to run in the huts and the winding alleyways surrounding them he better have a weapon for close range combat.

Taking a vast gulp of air, the sea green eyed sergeant half-sprinted half jumped out of the hut. Seeing a tango to his left trying to bash his skull in, he quickly turned the shotgun and pulled the trigger to be greeted by the recognizable and welcome sound of the lead making contact. The traditional moan of agony followed shortly after the somewhat splashy noise of the bullet coming in contact with the membrane.

Too soon for Roach's comfort another three tangos emerged out of an emerald, boarded up hut, breaking through the door.

One had a shotgun.

_Shit._

Barely avoiding the shotgun's blast radius, Roach rolled into the next hut over and peeked around the corner just in time to see a muzzle flash.

Throwing a flash bang, Roach watched as it hit the open door and bounced near the militia's hut. Nice.

"Gahhh!"

"Roach!"

_Double shit._

The flashbang must've hit Meat too. Roach, being he hero that he was, skidded out of the hut to take down the tangos, only to discover that Meat had already taken them down.

"You're lucky I wasn't as close as them to that flashbang. Thanks for the temporary blindness by the way."

Sighing in relief, Roach trudged onwards. Shooting, stabbing, and chop-blocking anyone who got in the way in the small and now blood covered alleyways.

Thinking about how small this place was got Roach to remember that Mactavish had shown them a map of the Favelas not three hours ago.

_Roach's short cut cropped__ brown hair was getting a little long; Roach noticed this as he looked down to memorize the map that Mactavish had laid out minutes ago._

_Green eyes scanning over the page, looking for any specific landmarks and just getting a basic layout imprinted into his brain, he didn't hear a door open and shut._

"_Watcha guys looking at?"_

_Almost jumping, Roach turned to look at Kyrie._

"_Map," He said, looking her over. She didn't have any of her gear on yet which was no surprise; they still had about another forty minutes till they actually had to be Oscar Mike._

_Kyrie's style was a pretty weird one when she wasn't in her gear._

_She currently wore one of those tops that girls wear, that has one sleeve normal and then another across her arm like a band; it was also only as long as her stomach. It was black with a multi-colored bird of some sorts made completely out of hands. Roach could also tell that she wore a simple neon green tank underneath it since green seemed to be the most used color in her shirt._

_Simple black denim shorts with a green star on the pocket were pretty __effortless._

_Roach didn't see the point of wearing much clothes underneath the cotton shirt and pants, plus the bullet proof vest and everything else, but whatever._

_Strolling over to a small table in the corner where Ghost and Mactavish were sitting and reviewing the files over and over again, Kyrie looked as to have asked Mactavish something. He nodded and pointing to a drawer in one of the bureaus._

_Walking over and yanking the drawer open, Kyrie pulled out a pencil and a thin piece of paper._

_Coming over by the map she starts drawing an outline of the map, then the big buildings, then the smaller ones, and lastly the paths in between and coloring them in. The team watches in wonder as she begins to trace her finger over multiple routes and turns. Finally she starts erasing paths until there are only four left._

"_Those," Kyrie states, "are our best chances of getting through if we are ambushed or anything combat related. Follow those and it'll be much easier."_

"_What the, how-," Most of the team stutters._

_Ghost walks over and glances down at the map, studying it, "She's right. Those pathways seem to be the smallest and the most surrounded by buildings; which means many places to take cover."_

_The rest of the team looked astounded. Roach looked at her in modest disbelief, "Okay, did they train you somewhere or something?"_

_She rolled her eyes and then pointed to the routes she mapped out, "No. I just compared all the routes to see which ones we could have advantages in while in combat. It doesn't take a genius to figure out these things, Roach. What do you think military strategists do? Sit on there asses and eat donuts like some overweight mall cop?"_

_Mactavish snickered at the teams misfortune of being the subjects of Kyrie's quick, witty, and sarcastic remarks, he had been in the spotlight and never wanted to go back. That was one thing about Kyrie; she could talk her way out of anything. Hell, she could get anything she wanted just by saying the simplest of things that take T.V show writers hours to come up with._

_When she was in danger, Mactavish got the impression that deep down she was scared but, had somehow shoved the feeling down and duct taped it there. _

"_What are you snickering about over there, Captain?"_

Remember the map, Roach jumped forward for yet another knife in the throat for an unlucky sod that happened to be in his way.

Completely out of the blue, Roach heard a stifled moan of pain.

"Roach, I've been hit!"

"Meat is down! I repeat, Meat is down!"

_Impossible. He was following me the whole time._

Roach spun around like one of those tea cups in Disney world, looking for Meat.

No Meat.

_Where'd the hell he go?_

"I'm down, I'm down! Keep going Roach, we're as good as dead!"

_Royce._

Ice water flowed into his veins freely, giving him a chill he had never experienced before. It was so cold and eerie. He was alone now.

Fire soon replaced the ice, chasing it away like a witch hunt; adrenalin backing it up.

If you thought Roach was deadly when he was calm, you should see him pissed.

He didn't miss a single shot, once, on his way to the markets.

Finally getting out of the lower levels of the Favelas, Roach took a moment to catch his breath. This wasn't supposed to happen. Meat and Royce couldn't be dead, could they?

The hyper active idiots who loosened the tension at the base could not simply be gone.

It was funny, in a weird, sick, and twisted way but it was kind of ironic, the way soldiers go into battle and kill and never think anything of death and then, when they finally die, they never see it coming. They never took the time to think about what happens once you're actually dead.

What happens?

Where do you go?

Is there actually a heaven?

And what about Hell?

What if everything they said in any religion was fictional, imaginary, and pretended. What if there was no God, no Buddha, no anybody.

Maybe there was no being unlike all others, no one divine and everlasting. Maybe there was no person that was a pristine and prominent instrument in the overarching order of humanity; no person's breaths or bare hands that conducted a symphony for humanity to listen to; drawing back the curtain to life and making an elaborate curtain call of death.

Perhaps no one watched and guided the golden dances of the soul; maybe no one guarded the doorway to another place because there was never one to begin with.

Maybe no one dictated the way of the world like the rest of the world thought someone did.

It was probably humanity that chose which direction the world went; left, right, straight, down, let's spin in circles. Too many people tried to chose a path for the world to follow so people grab a corner and begin to tug which way they want to go. Left, right, up, down, southwest, northeast, I'm good right here thank you.

And just like children fighting over a stuffed animal, the threads begin rip out one by one until the toy breaks, and the children start to cry. It wouldn't be a much different scenario if they world was in pieces with its stuffing coming out, would it?

Shaking away his thoughts, Roach continues. He couldn't be distracted at a time like this.

Breaking Roach's thought web with a hammer, Mactavish speaks to him through his ear piece, "Roach, we've got Rojas's location. He's headed west along the upper levels of the Favelas."

"We'll cut back on our side," Kyrie cut in.

"Keep going, cut him off on top," Mactavish says, Roach can almost see the glare that he has on his face, "No time for back-up, you'll have to do this on your own. Good luck."

"G'luck Roach," Kyrie says briefly before the ear piece cuts back into the static.

Jogging forward, Roach sees a fence with a dog behind it. It looks like it wants to chew his face off so he dispatches it without thinking twice. He hears am animal like growl and is forcefully shoved to the ground.

"Where'd the Hell you'd come from you sneaky little bastard," Roach snarls, twisting the unfortunate dog's neck, breaking it.

That's one thing you have to worry about in places like this; they probably use the dog for food, not to keep as a pet. That means, you approach the little bugger with a treat, you'll probably get your hand bitten off as a thank you.

Tangos burst through the door on his right and more are flooding to the roof tops.

_Screw this, run for it._

Roach feels a strong urge to jump in the air and scream yahoo as loud as he can when he enters the upper levels of the Favelas but figuring that would get him compromised more than he already is, he shoves it down.

That's when a certain bastard decided to break through a boarded up window and actually managed to hit him.

Thank fucking God for bullet proof vests. Several other a-holes seem to be coming out of doors and windows and dark corners, Roach notices with a sigh of exasperation as he shoots another tango before diving into a building and knifing someone.

He throws a grenade out with a practiced hand and hears the explosion and the screams that follow.

Good, he actually hit someone or someones. Either way, it works for him.

Throwing a flash bang out he hears some yelps of surprise and decides to stick his head out from the door way to see his escape route and about four tangos holding their eyes like babies.

Taking out the four militia soldiers he continues his spin up into the upper Favelas. Up the ramp, there was a camper, as Roach likes to call them, hiding in a window, aiming at the ramp, waiting for him to walk into his line of sight.

To bad the ramp was curved and Roach saw him before he saw Roach.

He was keeping an eye out for more tangos because he could hear them, he just couldn't see them when his ear piece scared the living crap out of him, "This is their terrain Roach," Kyrie says, "Be careful. Watch your six and the roof tops. There are a lot of twisty, turny alleyways."

The ear piece biting back into the static, Roach continues his misadventure into the Favelas.

Barely avoiding more bullets that locals had shot at him, his ear piece come to life for the third time today, "Watch the roof tops! We've had a few close calls with RPGS and machine guns!"

That was Mactavish, not Kyrie.

_Close calls, _his subconscious said, worming the word to the front of his brain.

That made his stomach tighten for a reason he couldn't grasp. Mactavish gave him updates and crap all the time. Why was he so worried? He said close calls; not deaths.

"Roach we're taking heavy fire from the militia. We're still tracking Rojas. He ran into that building, Ghost, you see him?"

"Roger that," Ghost responds quickly, "heading out to the right carrying a black duffel bag."

"Well that outta slow him down," Kyrie says, bullets heard in the background.

"Roach, we'll keep him from doubling back. Keep moving to intercept. Go! Go!" Mactavish shouts.

Roach fires more and more until he has to reload. He he just wants this day to be over with, damnit.

"Keep going. Rojas is still heading towards your side of the Favela," Mactavish commands, "Don't let the militia pin you down for to long. Use your flash bangs on them!"

Taking Mactavish's advice, Roach uses up the rest of his flash bangs and grenades, taking out a ton of militia that we're other wise pinning him down.

"Dammit! I lost sight of him again," Mactavish and Kyrie shout in unison.

"Ghost, Talk to me," Mactavish orders once again.

"I'm onto him! He's trying to double back between the alleys below!"

"Roger that, stay on him!"

Firing more bullets out of his ACR, Roach takes down another three tangos. He was deathly quiet and didn't feel like taking his concentration off not getting killed to form words. It's not like he had a visual of him or anything. Hell, he didn't even know where he was.

"I have a visual of Rojas," Ghost bellows.

_Well, I'll be damned._

"He's cutting through to the markets!"

"Roger that! Me and Kyrie will head to the rooftops and try to cut him off on the right. He's gonna have no choice but to head west!"

"Damn! I'm taking a lot of fire from the militia. I don't think I can track him through the markets," Ghost informs, static breaking into his lines, "I'm gonna to have to find another way around!"

"Roach, I've spotted Rojas," Kyrie cuts in, "He's making a run for it! He's headed your way!"

"Don't shoot him," Mactavish orders quickly, "We need him alive and unharmed!"

Roach desperately tried to pick up the pace, this was there last chance, Meat and Royce did not die just so they could fail.

"Roach, we're going to cut him off on the summit, keep pushing him that way! Go! Go!"

Jeez, Mactavish sure likes to make sure they're moving their asses by screaming go, go, all the time, doesn't he?

"Ghost, he's going for that Motorcycle," Kyrie bellows in return.

"We've got eyes on Rojas," Mactavish replies, "Wait. Shit, he's headed back towards you!"

"Keep pushing him up the hill, Roach," Kyrie commands, "Don't let him double back!"

"Nice," Mactavish compliments, "he's breaking to the right again. Roach, if you see him don't shoot, I need him unharmed!"

"Guys, I'm going to the right," Kyrie informs.

"He's gonna get away," the two superiors shout.

"No, he's not."

The glass from a second story building Roach is in front of breaks and Rojas jumps through. He crashes into the car below and just about as the sergeant is about to grab him and bag him the sergeant has already jumped through the window and is holding her pistol to his face.

"Told you guys he ain't going no where," Kyrie smiles.

Ghost chuckles while Roach stands there out of breath with the most hilarious look adorning his face.

"Frontrunner, this is bravo six; we've got the package. I repeat, we've got the package," Mactavish calmly informs the team through his radio.

Ghost, reaching up to prepare the team for dust off, speaks in the same calm voice that Mactavish had on, "Get ready for dust off; send the chopper. Yeah, go to coordinates-"

Ghost pauses before answering back in an agitated voice, "Bollocks, the skies are clear."

Kyrie lets Mactavish hold Rojas while she gets off and catches her breath.

"Send the chopper now" Ghost orders, clearly ready to shoot whoever's on the other line.

Kyrie raises her eyebrow first at Ghost then at Roach. Strolling over and brushing the dirt off her gear, she asks, "What's with that? You usually have this much trouble asking for a dust off?"

"Yes," he answers, trying to cover up the worry in his voice by coughing. The word worry was an understatement. He was absolutely agonized to think they wouldn't get a simple chopper to bring them back home.

"You're a horrible liar, Roach."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>I remember! I just realized that every single chapter I have has at least one flash back!

**Roach: **Why is that? Do you think are readers are dumb?

No, it's just-

**Roach: **Hear that? She thinks your dumb!

ugh, why didn't I kill you again?

**Roach: **Cuz you love me

God damn your fictional hotness

**Roach: **How do you know what I look like. The creators didn't even give me a face because the technological gifted people would find a way to zoom out of my body and see it. It's all on you tube.

True, but your all muscular. And much more Bad ass then Edward Cullen.

**Roach: **Who?

Exactly.

Thanks for reviewing and such and remember, I DON'T OWN ANY THING MODERN WARFARE 2 RELATED!

Once again, sorry for the late update! And no, I'm not gonna make up excuses about life. It's still summer until August 29th. After that, you guys might never see me again. That's when I go to...MIDDLE SCHOOL!

I'm scared to death.


	5. The Hornets Nest

**AN: **Oh my God, I haven't updated in what? 5 months? 6 months? I don't even know! That's one way you can tell I haven't updated in awhile. Anyways, in the last chapter I promised this would be up fairly quickly because it was "short". My god I was wrong! This is just over 7,000 words! My longest chapter yet!

Back to my laziness and the reasons as to why I didn't update.

1) School. My first year in middle school has gone pretty well but it's hectic and sometimes confusing. A lot has happened but I have this awesome English teacher who brings me all sorts of contests for writing. I entered in two contests. One was to win a trip to the hunger games premiere and all you had to do was write a dystopian story kinda like the Hunger games. I didn't place in that one unfortunately but I was going up against 12th graders while I'm in measly 7th. However, I did enter a national novel contest and i'm waiting to hear back. I'm thinking of uploading my Hunger Games contest writing on here but only if you guys want me to, since it doesn't fit in to any catergories.

2) Weddings, Couples, babies, ect... Surprisingly, I've been to 3 weddings in the months that I didn't update and I have four new baby cousins, with one more on the way from my closest aunt and it's pretty hectic with all that stuff and other family matters of course. I've also gotten my first boyfriend so I've been busy hanging with my friends and him, and recently my social life seems to have blown up. I used to be pretty much always free on weekends and thats when I usually write but I've been busy.

3) Groundation. My room's a disaster and I refuse to clean it. Their solution is to ground me but not take my phone away.

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and sorry for the life update up there but i thought some of you might wanna know what's going on and stuff. Now, Chapter six will be up, **_hopefully, _**by the end of next week because I am legit almost finished with it and just so you guys know, it'll be a irrelevant chapter. That basically means it will have none of the original MW2 storyline plot points but it will have some of my own, so I'd recommend you'd read it when it comes out or else you'll be very confused.

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN MODERN WARFARE 2 OR ANY OF ITS IDEAS OR CONCEPTS. I STRICTLY OWN KYRIE AND MY OWN IMPROVISIONS TO THE ORIGINAL STORY!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: <strong>**The Hornets Nest**

Command wouldn't send them a helicopter.

Funny thing is; they said they would send reinforcements.

Think about that statement for a moment.

Basically, command would send men in on a helicopter, but not the other way around.

It's situations like these that makes Kyrie wonder how some people even get out of bed in the morning.

First things first, they had to deal with Rojas; he wasn't going to interrogate himself.

"Just tells us something, anything about Makarov," Kyrie growled, "and we won't kill you."

Kyrie was currently alone in an abandoned garage with Rojas who was strictly confined in a spare metal chair they had found. Mactavish, Ghost, and Roach we're all outside, screaming into their tiny radios, trying, in vain she might add, to get a helicopter to bring them back to base.

To her, it was obvious; they weren't going to get back with one of command's airliner. If it came down to it, she could call in a favor, but she'd rather not do that.

The members of the task force are definitely not geniuses but all the same, they're not by any means stupid. Kyrie knew if she called in one of her many favors, she knew _he _would show up and knowing his mouth, he'd blow every secret she has.

"Forget it princess, I ain't telling you anything. Even if I told you and you actually let me go, which I doubt you will, Makarov will kill me anyway. And if by the almost impossible chance he doesn't; I'll go to jail for giving the ammunition to start a war."

"One bullet to unleash to release the fury of nation," Kyrie mutters under her breath.

"Exactly," Rojas sighs. "Look, I didn't want to supply the assault. Really, I didn't."

Kyrie raised an eyebrow, confused, "They why'd you supply it? If you thought it was going to end up a bad deal, why'd you do it?"

"You've never done business with Makarov, princess. If Makarov offers you a deal you take it," Rojas said, glancing up at her before returning his eyes to feet.

"You've dealt with Makarov before," Kyrie asked in surprise, eyes widening. Her childish mind pictured them in black and grey cloaks, glancing around with fretful eyes and exchanging yellowed documents.

"Very few times and very brief. Actually, the only times I've met him before this, was when he was escorting me to his master's chambers. Imran Zakaev," Rojas explained, "So you see, even if they couldn't tag me with all of Makarov's murders, which they can, they'd be able to tag me for Zakhaev's as well."

"That still doesn't explain to me why you didn't turn down Makarov's deal. If my intelligence was correct, you were a ghost up until Makarov went on killing spree," Kyrie said, slightly aggravated that he hadn't come to his conclusion. Then she thought of something, "Look, if you're trying to stall and wait to see if the three guys out there will let you go and be all happy rainbows, you're outta luck. By now, you'd have a broken nose, some broken ribs, and many lacerations from them for simply sounding defiant. The only reason I haven't already punched you is because that wild game of tag we had going on a little awhile ago, I'm a little worn out. It doesn't help that I've gone 24 hours without sleep either."

"Just trying to give a little back story princess. I heard chicks dig that kinda stuff," Rojas leered, "Anyway, Zakhaev paid me a hefty amount for just giving him a hand with the little troubles he was having with some of his other buddies. Zakhaev made sure to never offer me a big break; back then, I was only a novice playing in an expert's game. Zakhaev knew I would most likely screw up the jobs that actually mattered, so he didn't give them to me," Rojas continued, shrugging, "Can't say I could argue with that point either."

"So, why did Makarov call on you then? From what we know about you, which isn't much, we've gathered you've gotten higher in the ranks of your petty trafficking deals, but still don't retain the expertise of some of Zakhaev's…other dealers, who we haven't actually caught yet, which leaves me to believe that they're still in the business, but are just lying low," Kyrie states rather quickly. She knew she had a time limit on him, if she couldn't get the answer outta of him, then it would be a lost cause. Mactavish, Ghost, or maybe even Roach wouldn't be able to get an answer out of him, that much she knew for sure.

They went with the violent tactics of interrogation, which are great, until you accidently knock the guy unconscious. While you wait for him to wake up, surprise, you get ambushed by militia. Not a fun scenario.

"To be honest, I don't really know why Makarov called on me to do his "petty trafficking deals". Maybe he remembered me; maybe he tried all of Zakhaev's surviving buddies and they refused, remembering how Zakhaev had so gloriously failed; shot right in the back of the head by a supposed dead man. I don't know princess," Rojas declared, looking almost truthful.

"Stop calling me princess before I dropkick you so fast your head will spin."

He laughed, "I have no doubt that you will follow through on your actions, sweetheart," Kyrie sighed in defeat as he continued, "Since you made the last minutes of my life somewhat enjoyable, I'll tell you the only thing I'm positive that will make Makarov absolutely livid."

Kyrie looked at him in shock; did he seriously just say he'd help?

"There's a man, in a gulag, filled with victims of the last war. Makarov wants him dead; as far as I know, the man's his worst enemy. I don't know his name or how the Hell he got there, but he's American. And I'm guessing he's waiting for somebody to come to his rescue."

"Where is it," Kyrie demanded, stepping forward with an incredibly threatening stance, venom coating her voice. An American was in a gulag, somewhere; that meant they had to rescue him, important to Makarov or not.

"Forty miles east of Petropavlovsk, Russia. The only way to get there is of course through the air but there are oil rigs guarding the only entry point with working SAMS. The Russians are using the workers as a human shield so you can't go in guns blazing. Although, you seem very capable, you'll have the hostages safe and all the Russians dead in no time I bet," Rojas says, smirking.

Kyrie nods, "Thanks for the info, I appreciate it. Sadly, you won't be able to ever figure out if I saved all the hostages or not," She unholsters her pistol and without hesitation fires the gun point black, gaining a head shot.

The Lieutenant, the Captain, and the Sergeant barge in, expecting Rojas free with Kyrie's body at his feet, but are greeted with the much more appealing image of Rojas slumped in his chair dead while Kyrie holsters her pistol and grins at them, "I'm a better interrogator then you'll ever be."

"Who is he?"

"For the last damn time, I don't know! Rojas didn't know either so why the Hell would I know?"

Kyrie, under normal circumstances probably would have been ripped to shreds by her captain if she ever spoke to him this way; obviously, the day had had its wear on their bodies and minds, making them less attentive in the way other people moved or spoke.

Still, it didn't help he has asked three times after the original information left Kyrie's mouth, and each time he asked, he grew more urgent like he had just come up with who it was and wanted a conformation.

"Look, captain," Roach started, coming to an aggravated Kyrie's rescue, "If Rojas did tell her who it was, she would have told us, obviously. And, if she didn't tell us, it'd be her loss anyway, so therefore she has to be telling the truth. It's just not reasonable to do anything else."

Mactavish nodded, "I know mate. But, I had to make sure. If we knew who it was, it would've probably helped us convince somebody to help us out in the assault. People don't like to go in looking for a mystery man that might not actually be there."

"Well," Ghost interjected his friends, coming around to each of them and handing out an ump to each, "How about we get out of this lovely little market, _alive, _and then we can argue about our mystery man in a gulag all we want."

"That is an excellent idea," Kyrie commented back, "Captain?"

"Yeah, yeah," Mactavish uttered, "Get moving, up the hill, up the hill."

* * *

><p>"I don't about you, but…I think this is a trap."<p>

Five men's head swiveled slowly to gaze at the obvious brunette, a sarcastic little grin tugging at her pink lips, her golden caramel eyes holding a slightly spiteful glint in them.

"Really, who would've guessed," Scarecrow muttered back in response, slapping a piece of tall grass out of his face with the back of his hand.

They had managed to climb up the hill in a somewhat decent formation, but halfway up Kyrie suggested the pretty evident possibility that militia could come up behind them and kill their asses before they could even turn around.

The team kinda of just stood there for a few moments, feeling tremendously stupid for letting that one go right over their heads.

And really, Kyrie thought, they should.

Then that stupid little voice, her conscious or some crap, reminded her that she didn't think of it either and she would have been just as much to blame _if_ militia _had _actually flanked them.

She told it to shut up and mind its own business.

She stopped denying that tiny sliver of schizophrenia and ADHD part of her a long time ago. And it's not like she was crazy and talked to herself all the time; that would be her indication of a defiant mental instability on her part. That would be a problem. But it wasn't…yet. She doesn't plan on going insane till she's at least eighty. That's considering she even gets out of this godforsaken ghost town alive.

Kyrie, after her scolding to her conscious on when it could talk and when it can't, she suggested lamely that someone should cover their six.

They all nodded in a half-hearted agreement and Roach tiredly volunteered to take six with Kyrie.

Now, they were standing at the top of the hill, surrounded by giant green bushes and dead, tall grass up to their waists.

They had heard a few uninterruptable voices when they first entered the top of the Favela and Kyrie promptly followed up with her obvious statement.

"Nikolai! We're at the top of the Favela surrounded by militia! Bring the chopper to the market, do you copy, over," Mactavish questioned into his radio.

"Ok my friend, I am on the way," came the friendly response.

Kyrie had ended up not having to call in a favor, as the friendly voice indicated. She had planned on speaking up when the Captain and Ghost we're discussing options about what to do, when suddenly, Mactavish said he needed to find a payphone, if they even existed.

Kyrie then promptly pointed to one placed conveniently across the way and jogged over with him along with Ghost. Roach, meanwhile was disposing Rojas's body to God knows where.

They had forced Kyrie to take the bullet out of his head though.

Yeah, you heard right. They made her dig around in a dead man's skull to find one measly little bullet.

Apparently, if anyone found Rojas's body, found the bullet, and analyzed it, they could find out where it came from and who; like they did with Rojas's shell at the airport.

Needless to say, she was rather perturbed, all the while; the rest of the men struggled to hold in the laughter as she dug around looking for the bullet.

Then Roach walked out of the shed, holding something reflective in his hand, his eyebrows raised, green orbs looking into her golden brown.

"I think I found your bullet," he had said.

She immediately followed with pulling her fingers out in repulsion and flicking her fingers towards Mactavish and the others.

None of them were even aware of what had happened until Mactavish was unlucky enough to have a huge glob of the warm, red substance splatter across his cheek.

Kyrie now has a bruise of about 4 inches on her bicep.

In fact, it hurt like hell then and still hurt like hell now, she noticed as she loaded her clip, preparing for the oncoming onslaught.

"Everyone get ready. Lock and load!"

With that, the small unit burst through the weeds, firing at local militia, which, surprise, we're waiting for them.

"We've gotta get to the helicopter-head through the gate to the market," Mactavish howled, "Move! Move!"

"Let's do this," Ghost added for good measure.

"Shit," Kyrie shouted, "Foot-mobiles on the rooftops, closing in fast from the south."

"I got'em," Roach shouted above the gunfire, throwing a frag grenade into the foot-mobiles mix, blowing up several of them, "Pressures off from the south."

Kyrie shot several tangos that had been hiding behind cover as Ghost informed them that more militia was coming in from a shack on the left.

A millisecond later, she got whacked in the head by a door.

Of course; just her luck.

She couldn't believe she just got bitch slapped by a door.

It took another split second for the bloody militia to even get out the door, where Kyrie rapidly bashed the ones head in with the butt of her gun and mowed down the rest of them before they could blink.

"You okay over there, Sergeant," Ghost asked calmly into his earpiece.

"Fan-fucking-tastic, sir," she replied, wiping the small rivulets of blood that had began to drip down her face. She did not want to get blood in her eyes.

"Good to hear."

It continued on like this for a few minutes, snide comments on each other's rare screw-ups and enough bullets to take down a horde.

Then a technical came in just as they were about to move forward.

"Damnit," Kyrie swore, taking the shot and hitting her target.

It only took another second before a second technical appeared and Kyrie started to wonder if some bastard with a mustache and stroking his cat were laughing at them.

"Bollocks," Mactavish swore frustration evident, "another technical coming in! Take it down!"

This time Roach achieved the goal of killing the gunner with a headshot.

"Nice shot," she said quickly as she passed by to take 3rd position. He nodded in appreciation and continued his quest of trying not to get shot; which believe it or not was way harder than it seemed on TV or in video games.

"Head through the gates," Mactavish commanded, "Keep pushing to the evac point!"

"Go! Go! Go," Ghost shouted as soon as he saw an opportunity for an escape.

The squad pushed forward down the wide, long alleyway; as they were nearing the mouth, militia ran down, obviously heading to where they were supposed to be five minutes ago. The general idea was to let them pass in hopes of saving ammo, but that dream was crushed when a mercenary pointed his finger at them and screamed in the area's native tongue.

Kyrie hurriedly pulled off a headshot and ran around the corner while shouting at her teammates, "If we hurry up we can catch them from behind before they figure out that guy isn't with them anymore.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

They rounded the sharp corner expertly to come face to face with men hiding up in windows and behind cars. Two men were even hiding behind a dirty old rusted refrigerator and barrel as a makeshift obstacle. So, maybe their stations weren't as far away as the task force hoped they were.

Damn, there goes the easy way.

They still push onward through what looks like a half-assed metal scrap yard with temporary pieces of sheet metal and barrels for cover, but they were arranged in a so slapdash way and to their advantage that Kyrie thinks they must have either been randomly placing the things or had a death wish.

Either way, it worked for her.

"Let's go, let's go!" We've gotta push through these streets to the market," Mactavish informed them once again.

"Yeah, we got that," Kyrie responded back, "We're just trying not to get shot."

Roach did an "humph" of agreement and Ghost shook his head up and down, confirming that Kyrie was right, they were horribly outnumbered.

Right now, they were thanking every God imaginable for not getting shot already…and they still had to make it through the actual market.

* * *

><p>Tiny and enclosed.<p>

That's what Kyrie figured the markets would look like; Tight, compressed, and a mental breakdown waiting to happen for people like her.

She'd never admit to anyone, much less any members of the task force, but she was extremely claustrophobic. And when I say extremely, I mean tremendously claustrophobic.

Her case of claustrophobia is weird, put her in a well lit public bathroom stall; she's fine, unless she can't get the bloody door open. That's when she panics.

However, put her in a shadowy closet with her friend leaning against the door laughing her ass off, unable to get out, she's done. She's absolutely terrified.

Okay, maybe it's not space issues. Maybe it's when there's a chance of not being able to get out. So, it's really not space issues, it's the idea of being trapped that scares her. The idea that she'll be trapped and alone, helpless. Vulnerable. That's what petrifies her. The tiny area is only a fraction of the fear.

She wasn't always claustrophobic.

That's when the horrible memories of sharp serrated knifes with black, crusty blood and shattering screeches made their way to the front of her brain, tearing her focus apart.

That's when she felt searing pain near her shoulder and she felt something pop. She yelped in surprise and pain, only to hear her name get called and felt a warm liquid substance splatter against the back of her skin-tight black t-shirt. She was then pulled down, gently surprisingly, behind a piece of thicker metal and wood. She held her shoulder like a wounded dog and stayed still, totally dazed and confused as to what just happened.

"Kyrie".

She felt for her knife and drew it and was halfway through swinging it when her wrist was caught, "Whoa! Whoa! I'm on your team! It's Roach!"

She felt like sighing in relief but wasn't really in the mood, dropping her hand and putting the knife back into it's respective place she looked towards her feet…to find a dead militiamen, face coated in blood from the head shot Roach no doubt gave him.

She turned, sickened, memories churning inside her head again. Now was not the time to be breaking down, but goddamn, memories are sneaky little buggers. You never know when they're gonna come up.

"Roach, what happened to Kyrie," Mactavish shouted through the static of her earpiece which she had gotten used.

"I'm fine," she bit back, her voice sounding terribly weak, clearing her throat she started again, "bastard just got the jump on me. Dislocated my shoulder."

With tentative hands she wrapped her palm around part of her shoulder and collarbone, preparing for something that would hurt like a bitch. Taking a gulp of oxygen, she roughly threw her shoulder back, making a horrible popping noise yet again.

Somehow she had managed not to screech but did taste the metallic blood from where she bit her tongue.

The pain gone, she gently attempted to swivel her shoulder, testing it. She'd only relocated her shoulder once before and that was by running into a wall.

Seeming fixed, she popped up from behind the piece of cover and took out two militiamen that appeared to be harassing Mactavish and Ghost who could seemingly not find the right angle.

Dropping back behind cover, she glanced towards Roach to see green eyes narrowed, "C'mon," Kyrie said, "Gotta catch up to the captain." She then jogged forward to catch up, still shakily trying to catch her breath which she did not know she had lost.

"No, your not," he muttered mainly to himself, "you're lying." He then proceeded to follow.

Kyrie had heard him despite his voice maintaining such a low volume. Not having a clue what he was talking about, she brushed it away and duck taped the memories once again to the back of her mind. There was no doubt she'd have nightmares tonight.

And they were just starting to subside too…

* * *

><p>The remaining task force members fought down the immature urge to jump in the air and scream "FINALLY!" at the top of their lungs when they reached the markets.<p>

Market stands with bright, colorful banners were close together and had unsightly brown and black smudges of dirt on them. Boxes were stacked into corners and wherever there was room. Chickens squawked noisily as there instincts realized that these people were not everyday shoppers. Wings flapped about in a hustle and beaks bit at the confining metal cages; feathers floating towards the bottom of the cage only to fly back up when the chicken flapped its wings again.

It was exactly how Kyrie imagined it, tight and congested.

Yippee.

It wasn't long before more goddamn militia came pouring through the stands, shooting at them. At some point Kyrie briefly remembered feeling the actually air twist and contort as the bullet hurtled right by her head. Give or take five inches and she would've been a pirate. In other words, TOO FUCKING CLOSE.

She raised her gun and leveled the red dot sight with an enemy's head and tapped the trigger, creating short but accurate bursts of firepower.

"Be careful," Ghost warned as a tango ran down in between the alleys, seeming to be oblivious to the firefight surrounding him, "One of them is Oscar mike!"

Roach ducked behind the stand Kyrie had taken insufficient cover behind and threw a flash bang out, hoping it wouldn't hit anyone on their side.

Kyrie grits her teeth as she poked her head around the corner, trying to locate the moving targets. She also knew her and Roach needed to move and find better cover. Some of the militia's cheap ass bullets wouldn't make it through the wood of the market stand but any average quality bullets would, which meant they'd be Swiss cheese in a matter of seconds.

"Roach, we gotta move," she said, glancing to an equally frustrated Roach.

"Tell me something I don't know," he responded, "Ghost, Tavish? Can you clear a path to sufficient cover? Kyrie and I are sitting ducks over here."

"We can try Mate, be on look out for tangos. They're used to these taut spaces."

Kyrie caught a flash of movement behind Mactavish and Ghost's position and fired, making the superiors swerve to the mercenary's dead body.

"You sure we the one's who need to be looking out," she asked grimly, getting the sensation in her gut that something was right behind her.

_BANG!_

"Maybe you need to pay better attention Sergeant," Mactavish spoke into her ear piece.

"That's good advice for anybody."

"Hate to interrupt but can we move before we get killed?"

"Oh yeah, sure."

With that note Kyrie and Roach split, one going left and one going right. They both sprinted to new cover and Mactavish followed behind Roach while Ghost followed Kyrie.

"We have to get out of these tight spaces," Kyrie said, trying to keep her cool.

"I agree. There's a lot of cover but it's half ass," Roach sounded in, killing a tango that was trying to zigzag through the stands.

"Shit," Ghost called in to the ear piece, making both sergeants cringe as his voice rang in their ears, "Contacts coming in at 11 o'clock, firing blind."

Kyrie grasped a flash bang and a grenade, "Stun and blow," she muttered before flinging the flash bang out toward 11 o'clock, hearing several squeals in response and a "Hey, watch it," from Mactavish and Roach.

"Then move." She commanded and threw out a grenade in the same direction as the flash bang.

They moved forward and were instantly met with more resistance from the roof tops as the militia trotted across the flimsy wooden roofs of small stands and some buildings.

"God damn, you'd think they were expecting us," Kyrie muttered out in complaint. I mean, really? How many could there possibly be in this one small Favela?

Just as they finished clearing house, Nikolai's pave low came into view over head and Mactavish made sure they knew that they were that much closer.

"There's Nikolai's Pave Low! Let's go!"

They all sprinted in through a red building and Mactavish continued to communicate with Nikolai, "Nikolai! ETA 20 seconds! Be ready for immediate dust-off!"

"That may not be fast enough," Nikolai sounded back, his voice riddled with panic, "I see more militia closing in on the market!"

All of the remaining 141 members swore under their breath and their stress levels immediately raised about three levels.

Mactavish, up to his breaking point, commanding they pick up the pace, "Pick up the pace! Let's go!"

They exited through the building, expecting a helicopter ready for lift off but instead found a clearing swarming with mocha colored skin and red clothed bodies and Nikolai's Pave Low, hovering helplessly above.

"It's too hot! We will not survive this landing," Nikolai hollered, telling them something they already knew.

Mactavish, frustrated but not going to risk his friends life, hollered back, "Nikolai, wave off, wave off! We'll meet you at the secondary LZ instead! Go!"

"Very well," Nikolai replied hastily, his helicopter already beginning to head towards the secondary LZ, "I will meet you there! Good luck!"

Kyrie grumbled in distaste as she continued to mow down militia men with led, "We will need it, that's for sure."

After thirty seconds of firing blindly at anything that move, Mactavish decided to take charge again, "Come on! We've gotta get to the rooftops! This way!"

Mactavish made his way through some remnants of junk scrap yard pieces and led the way through the clearing, behind cover and out into the open again, still killing tangos along the way.

Mactavish and the team came to wooden blockade and used it to help them get to the roof tops.

Roach and Kyrie were some of the last two to jump and climb and Kyrie almost lost her grip on the edge of the wood.

Panic and fear struck her heart as she realized that more militia were probably coming in from behind. Sure the fall was only a foot or two down but those few extra seconds it would take to climb back up could be the difference of life or death.

Roach had seen Kyrie's grip slipping the second he got onto the platform and his hands shot out at a breath taking speed, one taking her wrist and the other grasping a strap on her vest.

He pulled her up quickly, right into a running stance.

"Don't worry, I got'cha."

Kyrie nodded and continued to sprint, shoving him as well to get him to start running.

After the two had gotten up, the team took off, rounding a sharp left turn as the continued along a path on the roof. Then they took a sharp right on the metal roof and came into a clearing of sorts, except made of metal.

"Let's go, let's go," Mactavish shouted out words of encouragement.

Kyrie's heart began to beat even more rapidly then it already was and she felt her chest and stomach tighten as adrenalin coursed through her system.

"My friend," Nikolai said suddenly, making Kyrie have a mini-heart attack, "From up here, it looks like the whole village is trying to kill you!"

"Tell me something I don't know," Mactavish cried out, "Just get ready to pick us up!"

Then Ghost made a horrible realization, "We're running out of roof top!"

Kyrie's and Roach's hearts skipped a beat.

_No._

_No._

"We can make it," Mactavish shrieked, trying to sound completely confident and failing, "Go! Go! Go!"

Then they jumped across the gap that could mean life or death.

One of them didn't make it.

Roach's body hit the metal roof hard, knocking the wind out him, his breath coming out in a _whoosh._

He slipped further down the siding. With a last ditch effort, he hung onto the ledge with his finger tips, his heart beating in a sporadic off beat rhythm that made drum solos ashamed.

The last thing he saw was the Captain's and Kyrie's hands, reaching out to grasp his, to stop his fall.

Then he saw Kyrie's face, absolutely aghast and terrified, pink lips open in an "o", and caramel eyes appalled and shocked, terror churning in their depths.

Then he plunged into the cement below, his head rebounding off the ground, knocking him out.

The last thought he could process was that he wondered why Kyrie seemed to care so much.

* * *

><p><em>Thump.<em>

Roach hazily opened his eyes, trying to find the source of the sound. It sounded as if somebody had just jumped down beside him but why would anyone do that?

Where the Fuck was he? And why was his vision so blurry? More importantly, why did his whole body ache of exhaustion and his head pound with pain?

"ROACH! ROACH! WAKE UP!"

That was Mactavish.

Then he heard another voice, one that wasn't as familiar and took him a few seconds to process.

"Roach, get up, please," someone begged, slapping his face gently a few times. "Please."

_Kyrie._

He opened his eyes to be met with Kyrie's panic stricken ones, she let a small smile creep across her terrified and relieved features before Mactavish reminded them of something very important.

"Kyrie! Roach! We can see them from the chopper! They're coming for you, dozen's of'em!"

Roach looked past Kyrie as she pulled him up, his head swimming nauseously. He saw shadows on the wall and could clearly make out the rifles and submachine guns they held.

On instinct, Kyrie grabbed Roach's hand again and began sprinting, pulling him along until he was running on his own beside her.

"There's too many of them! Get the hell outta there and find a way to the roof tops! Move," Mactavish called out from the helicopter into their radios, panic and worry making his voice thick.

Ghost sat on a seat near by, face worried and angry.

Mactavish sighed in irritation and concern; he had done what he had too. He only regretted he hadn't seen Kyrie's decision coming as well.

* * *

><p><em>Roach fell and as his body twisted in the air before landing hard<em> _on the ground below, Ghost threw himself out towards the edge, seeing Roach as a little brother. His protective sense had kicked in and he was just about to jump for it when Mactavish grabbed him by his belt and pulled him back, telling him that there was nothing they could do._

_That's when he saw Kyrie, a flash of black and the dark green of her shirt flying past, jumping right over the ledge Roach had fallen, her hair flowing upwards as she descended. Mactavish stared; mouth opened wide, but only took a second to recover as he dragged Ghost into the helicopter._

_Ghost let him, still in shock that his little brother had fallen and his new little sister had gone after him._

_Mactavish had thrown him into a seat and started to shout at Nikolai to circle back; that they could still be alive._

_Still Ghost sat there unmoving, his heart thumping in his chest wildly, unable to believe that neither soldier heard it._

_His little brother…._

_His new little sister…._

_Was it weird that he thought of them as siblings? Or was it expected?_

_Here they were, fighting every single day for others lives and never getting any thank you's or even notice._

_Then he realized that if his little brother or sister died, nobody would know and nobody would care. _

_They were a secret organization; they couldn't let their real names get out._

_Then a thought struck him._

_Their families._

_From what he gathered of Roach's family, they were normal, except for his dad, who always drove him to be like his big brother, smart, handsome, and heroic._

_Roach said that's what drove him to the military. He said he didn't necessarily want to be smart or handsome but he did want to be heroic and strong and honorable. What better place then the military?_

_Turns out, Roach was skilled beyond what he should've been for the minimal amount of training he got and his young age. _

_He ran the pit and he became part of Ghost's team; his little brother._

_Roach's mom was always talked about when the men brought up family life. Roach described her as considerate, strong-minded, and ready to whip her husband and son's asses anytime the circumstance required it. _

_Roach loved his family._

_What about Kyrie? What of her family? Did she have one? _

_Was she like him? Alone, orphaned, and unwanted?_

_She never said and she never brought it up._

_No matter the fact that he had only been on one mission with her, Ghost instantly liked Kyrie. The way she talked. The way she treated others. Her sarcastic, cunning humor._

_Everything reminded him of his own sister._

_He couldn't help but start to feel that sibling protective bond._

So Ghost watched with Mactavish as his little sister and little brother sprinted in and through houses, running for their lives.

He hated that he was stuck up here, powerless and secure.

* * *

><p>Kyrie and Roach ran like the wind, hearts beating at an indescribable speed as they made their way through undersized and compact houses.<p>

They tore down an alleyway, feet kicking up dirt. Kyrie, out of the corner of her eye, saw a woman, terrified, scrambling to shut the shutters of her house. She also heard a distant cry of an infant and her heart broke.

"You need to get to the rooftops," Mactavish chided urgently, shouting out what they already knew.

Roach stayed silent and seemed to be in deep thought as he rounded a sharp corner and bounded up the stairs of a small building.

"Tell us something we don't know, Mactavish," Kyrie shouted out in irritation and fear.

That's when the broke free of the houses and were on the rooftops. Sunlight temporarily blinded them as they continued to run and they distantly heard Mactavish call out for them to hurry.

Then there was a slope in the roof that leads down to a window and they had little choice but to slide down and shatter the glass.

Their feet connected with the glass of the window, smashing it, and their bodies traveled through the storm of crystallized and resplendent glass. The small pieces of the window caught the light and threw sparkling dots of light onto them.

Several pin-prick like pains shot through Kyrie's arms and a particular pain stabbed in through the palm of her hand. A paper cut like pain slashed across her temple and her heart beat faster as a crystal clear shard nearly missed her eye.

Roach's experience with the splinters of glass wasn't great either. They pricked at his arms and one larger portion of the splintered glass left an especially painful stab at his cheek but he would deal.

Their black combat boots hit the ground with a _thud _and Kyrie let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. Their boots pound against the rotten wood floors of the house as they tear up the stairs, trying to get back to the rooftops.

"What the Hell happened," Mactavish shouted, "We can't see you anymore, get back to the rooftops!"

With an infuriated sigh, Kyrie slapped the off button on her radio. She knew what she was supposed to do.

Rooftops, don't get shot, helicopter.

That's what she kept repeating in her head. Oh and make sure Roach was following her at all times.

Just as quick as they were in the shadows of the pathetic excuse for a home, they were back in to a wide expanse of rooftop. Mactavish would be happy.

"My friend," Kyrie heard Nikolai's panicked voice from Roach's radio, "We are running on fumes! 30 seconds!"

"Shit," Kyrie and Roach swore in unison.

"We're running low on fuel," Mactavish bellowed, "Hurry!"

The helicopter was in view now, a rope ladder hung down fluttering in the breeze.

They were going to have to jump.

Isn't their inability to jump is what got them in this situation in the first place?

"We can make it," Kyrie told Roach, taking a brief second to look him the eyes, "We're going to make it."

Roach grinned and nodded, narrowing his green eyes on the ladder.

A split second later, they leaped off on the rooftop, Kyrie hit the ladder first, and Roach no more than a millisecond later.

Suddenly, a sharp pain so intense that Kyrie actually let go of the ladder ripped through her shoulder. She felt as if her life was in slow motion as the bullet tore through her muscle and scraped against what she was guessing was bone, transporting painful chills throughout her entire body.

Her right arm, shocked from the sudden throbbing pain let go of the ladder rung and her left on instinct went to grip the wound. She had yelped when the bullet hit and now she felt like crying when she realized that she had completely let go of the ladder and had no way to grab back a hold of it.

She fell about a total of three feet before a strong arm caught her, pulling her into a muscular chest.

"I got you," Roach soothed her, his voice sounding extremely relieved.

"We got'em," she heard her captain bark from Roach's radio, remembering she had turned her's off, "Let's go! Get us out of here Nikolai!"

* * *

><p>With the help of Roach, Kyrie had made it back into the helicopter. Her arm was throbbing and she heard her heart beat pounding away in her ears. She gripped her shoulder in a pitiful attempt to stop the bleeding when Chemo came up to her.<p>

"Let me see," he commanded, a rather strict tone that Kyrie found out she didn't like present in his voice.

She removed her hand, sticky with blood, and found she held something in between her fingers.

The bullet.

She glared at it and dropped it by Chemo's feet, who looked down curiously before going back to examine her bleeding injury.

Mactavish ran a hand through his short haired Mohawk, sighing in what Kyrie guessed to be anger and relief. Well, she hoped it was relief.

"That," he said, staring at the two sergeants, "was incredibly stupid."

Kyrie closed her eyes as Chemo probed her torn flesh, making a new jolt of pain flow through her as she waited for the Captain's lecture to begin.

"It sounds like something I would've done a few years back."

Kyrie's eyes snap open and Chemo pulls back, afraid he hit something serious.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Chemo shakes his head and goes back to trying to stop the bleeding with a rag he had cut off from a piece of cloth.

Mactavish grinned, "It sounds exactly like something I would've done with some old buddies of mine."

Ghost perked up; Mactavish never spoke of his past let alone let anyone off without a lecture after doing something that stupid. Hell, if it was him who had jumped to get Roach, he was certain he would be getting a lecture right now instead of story from the past.

The captain's smile faded and turned sad, the corners of his mouth barely curling upwards, "Not that that matters anymore."

Everyone let the subject drop and turned their attention back to Kyrie, who could not move her arm.

Everyone looked expectantly at Chemo, who had a grim expression, "I think her arm's gone into shock. She'll need surgery."

"Are you sure it's not Roach that's gone into shock," Archer asked as shook Roach gently. Roach gave him an icy glare that sent Archer scrambling back to Kyrie's side.

"Never mind, he's good," he said, answering his own question.

"Nikolai," Mactavish asked.

"Yes my friend," the Russian replied.

"Take us back to base; Kyrie actually needs some medical help."

"On it my friend."

"I'm fine," Kyrie tried to insist, "It's just a scratch; nothing more than a paper cut!"

Roach then stood up, grabbing a rag that Chemo had ripped off just incase. He walked over to Kyrie and grabbed her arm, turning it upward so he could see the palm of her hand, which was still bleeding and had nasty looking dried blood on it.

After her mouth opening into a shape of an "o" he wiped the rag across her temple, earning a flinch.

He then showed her the rag which had a dark bloody streak spreading across it.

He sent her a look and she snatched the rag out of his hands while the rest of the members watched in silence. She than folded the rag to a part where her blood wasn't present and wiped it across his forehead, receiving a surprised yelp of pain.

She then held the rag in front of his face, it coated with more blood than hers.

"In terms of injuries," she stated matter of factly, "You're just as bad as I am."

"Really now," he replied, smug, "Who here has a shoulder that looks as if some butcher tried to sever a piece of meat off with a chef's knife?"

"Shut up, I saved your ass."

"Maybe…but I saved yours too."

"Are we even then?"

"No."

Kyrie looked up, surprised, and cocked her head to the side, showing her confusion.

Roach didn't elaborate any further and instead stood up and went back to his seat, wallowing in what he could only guess was guilt.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>GEEZ! That was long. What I want to know is that if it was good or not. Do you guys think we can get up to 20 reviews? I also need your guys help on some things. Obviously, Kyrie has something going on in her past and I might need some inspiration. I've got a basic layout and such but inspiration form the people who are going to be reading it doesn't hurt :)

Now, as mentioned in the top author note thing, chapter six will be a free chapter where I can develop my plot because I haven't really had any time to do so. I know in the game it sends you right to the sub to go rescue those workers at the oil rigs and stuff but I wanna know how those people found this info so fast and had a plan ready, just like that. Anyway, the sixth chapter will be at the base and while my plot is developing, their researchers or whatever will be gathering Intel on 627 and the oil rigs. So lot's of Kyrie related plots next chapter with a side story of Roach and part of kyrie's connections are revealed so please do read it when it comes out with what I expect to be the end of next week. Maybe Saturday or Sunday.

Hmmm, Roach you're awfully quiet.

**Roach: **Aren't I supposed to be guilty and mopey right now?

Oh yeah, you are. Good to see you pay attention to my plot bunnies.

**Roach: **Plot bunnies? Really, Kyrie? wtf?

Another author used it and I liked it Okay! It reminded me of Rukia from bleach.

**Roach: **(Sigh) She doesn't own anything. Please review and such. I hope you enjoyed.

Heeeey! Those are my lines!

**Roach: **Too bad, so sad.

Review please! =)


	6. Freetime?

**AN: **Yello, my wonderful readers. I just uploaded chapter 5 yesterday and now chapter 6 today. I told you I was almost done with it, didn't I? Anyway, this is a free chapter that has nothing to do with the original plot of MW2, so technically, I don't think I have to do a disclaimer but I will. By definition, you don't have to read this either but it does have some of Kyrie's past, and relationship development in it so I would highly recommend reading and reviewing.

I recently got a PM that asked me where I thought this story was heading. I didn't really have a perfect answer for them. I do plan on finishing this with altered events and continuing on to the MW3 story line with my own improvisions because of Kyrie, but I fairly certain you guys will like the ending of this. I already have it planned out and I think it's really good. I think this might have...10 more chapters? Depending on what I'm going to do because I do have some options.

So I kinda changed the layout of this chapter and it may get a tad confusing to keep things in order but I have faith in you guys!

Anyways, please enjoy this chapter and it's plot bunnies! =)

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN MW2 OR ANY OF ITS IDEAS OR CONCEPTS. I STRICTLY OWN KYRIE AND MY OWN IMPROVISIONS TO THE ORIGINAL PLOT!**

* * *

><p><strong>Thursday, 4:30 PM<strong>

**Hidden 141 base in a small village 50 miles east of Russian territory **

"You guys coming to the Cafe_teria,_" Roach asked Chemo, Archer, and Toad. He directed his thumb towards the other side of the base, where the cafeteria was located. He was careful not to move his arm too much since the medic at the base said he had bruised ribs and a possible collarbone dislocation.

"Cafeteria," Chemo questioned in shock, "You'd honestly rather have cafeteria food?"

"What," Roach said, cocking his to the side slightly in confusion, "Are you talking about?"

"I don't think anyone told him," Toad said, putting in his two cents.

"Yeah," Archer said in agreement, "I think he was gettin' checked up by the medic to see if he had that, uh, clavicle thing dislocated."

"The clavicle's your collar bone mate," Ghost said tiredly, strolling over to his bunk and plopping down. He took a moment to take his red tinted sunglasses off and set them on the nearby stand before turning to look at his subordinates, vibrant blue eyes met Archer's hazel as he explained that he should know that by know.

"They taught that all the way back in middle school, "Archer whined, "How I am supposed to remember that kind of stuff."

Roach shook his head in amusement and rolled his green eyes, "They taught that crap all through High School; Please don't tell me you're that old."

Archer glared at him, "I am not old; Ghost on the other hand, is old."

Ghost sneered beneath his mask, "Now you listen here Archie boy, _General Sheppard_ is old, and hell, even _Mactavish _is considered old; I for one am not old."

Toad, Chemo, and Roach snickered as the lieutenant and Archer went back and forth playfully.

When Archer decided to just let it drop, he turned towards Roach, "So you didn't hear about what Kyrie's doing?"

Roach raised his eyebrows, "No, what in the world would she be doing besides recovering from that bullet wound?"

The memory of Kyrie screeching out in pain as a bullet tore through the muscles and ligaments in her shoulder, then scraping against the bone made him shudder with a pang of remorse.

She was almost killed because he had to go and screw up when jumping…again.

It was like his goddamn curse.

For a split second Roach strayed from his original reflection and thought about how ironic it would be if his call sign would have been grasshopper. His team would never let him hear the end of it. Especially, Meat and Roy…right.

Roach mentally slapped himself upside the head to so carelessly toss around names like that.

He guesses that even though he knew Meat and Royce weren't coming back, no matter what, he could still imagine them walking down the hallway and suddenly bumping into Roach so hard that he was smashed up against wall and with a smirk he would push back until it became a full out war.

That was their morning routine pretty much everyday.

Roach had woken up this morning ready to start a full blown battle of pushing each other into walls as they walked down to get breakfast this morning, when he suddenly realized, there was no one around to push or shove. In fact, the whole entire hallway was drenched in an uncomfortable silence that made Roach squirm anxiously.

Quiet is bad, silence is bad, overall, if you can hear your own breath in an entire military base of rowdy soldiers, old and young, something or someone is going to screw you over sometime during the course of the day.

And boy, did something screw him over good.

* * *

><p><strong>Thursday, 8 ½ hours earlier, 8:00 AM<strong>

_Sheppard called a meeting that everyone had to attend. That was rare. Extremely rare actually, everyone one was worrying about it and even Mactavish, the guy who dealt with the strange general almost on a daily basis, seemed a bit on edge._

_He didn't really worry about it because it would probably just be some sort of overview of what they figured out about 627 overnight and what had happened at the Favelas._

_But then he noticed Mactavish and Ghost looking slightly apprehensive as the meeting drawled closer to the scheduled time of 10:00 o'clock AM. _

_That's when he started to fret about it._

_Then he realized that he hadn't been to check up on Kyrie since last night when she was first treated. Then he remembered the doctors said something about having to do a surgery to reconnect the interior deltoid, which was the shoulder muscle if he remembered correctly from his high school anatomy classes._

_He had glanced at the clock, 8:00 AM, before running down towards the medical wing of the base._

_He walked into room 209 and was greeted with a brilliant smile and a little wave of Kyrie's hand._

_She wore denim jeans and a fitted green top that revealed her shoulder. Her hair was pulled up into a side ponytail, a black and green headband in place._

_She sat in one of the bland colored leather chairs, as a nurse was rotating her shoulder around in different angles asking whether it hurt or not._

_Six stitches ran up her shoulder and Roach felt a new wave of guilt surge through him but was unexpectedly broken by her voice, "Yo, guess what?"_

_He looked up, slightly surprised to find her voice so strong, "What," he asked._

"_I told you to guess," She retorted, flinching at the end as the nurse rotating her shoulder a little to far back for her liking._

_The nurse gave her a look, which Kyrie promptly responded to, "The shoulder isn't meant to bend that way in the first place, of course it's gonna hurt."_

_The nurse grabbed her clipboard, scribbled something down, and left the room with a frosty chill surrounding her._

"_Bitch," Kyrie mumbled, sticking out her tongue childishly at the door the nurse had just closed._

_Roach laughed, glad to have Kyrie returning back to her normal self._

"_You're not going to guess are you," she asked, turning back to him. _

"_Do I look like a mind reader?"_

"_They said they're gonna release me if everything checks out," Kyrie states, swinging her legs to the faint beat of the music in the room, "but they did tell me to rest for a couple of days"._

"_So, does that mean you can't come to the gulag with us to get prisoner 627," Roach asked, slightly relieved. Kyrie was a great soldier, but that injury might stop her from performing things that may or may not save her life._

_She looked slightly upset at this, "I don't know. You know that they'll tell me not go, stay here and rest up; but I'll end up bugging them about it till they're ready to kill themselves and they'll just let me go."_

"_Really now," Roach said, entertained by Kyrie's mastermind plan, "Is that so?"_

"_Yep," she smiled, "but you know, I don't have to resort to that amazing plan."_

_Roach narrowed his eyes, "How so?"_

"_All you have to do is sign a release form for me," she replied back deviously._

_He couldn't help but think she was up to something, "And why do you need to get outta here today, the operation doesn't start till Saturday."_

"_I wanna go to that stupid meeting of Sheppard's."_

"_Why? Sheppard has the personality of a wet towel."_

"_I like to have a say in our operations."_

"_No you don't."_

"_Yeah uh."_

"_Nah uh."_

"_Yes I do!"_

"_No you don't!"_

"_If you two are done…"_

_Roach and Kyrie jumped slightly at the presumptuous voice and turned to see the captain followed by the doctor who Roach had recognized as the one who performed most of Kyrie's treatments._

"_Doctor says you're allowed to go Kyrie," Mactavish replied after he was sure they wouldn't go back to their childish argument._

"_Really," she said, perking up instantly._

_The doctor nodded, "The nurse said you had great flexibility in your shoulder except for a slight few angles which your shoulder doesn't seem to agree with but other than that, give it a few days and it should be back to normal."_

"_Thanks," she replied, hopping up from her seat, "Appreciate it."_

"_It is no trouble," the doctor answered, as she exited the room. Roach gave him a nod as he followed after her and Mactavish gave the man thanks for patching up his soldier and briskly followed after his two subordinates._

* * *

><p><strong>Thursday, 1 ¾ hours later, 9:45 AM<strong>

_Roughly two hours later, every soldier that was left of the task force was sitting at the same round table and creaky metal chairs they had been sitting in when they first met the new FNG. This time though, two seats were empty._

_Kyrie was the first to notice, 'Why didn't anyone think to remove them,' she thought, sighing inwardly._

'_Probably because they're not ready to accept the truth,' a little voice inside her head said._

_And here she thought she made it clear that that little bugger of a conscious was not supposed to speak._

_Since everyone in the room was either about to faint from anxiety or fall asleep, there wasn't much conversation in the room. Once again, the silence was suffocating Roach, and he was just waiting for some creepy ass clown to blow a huge freaking hole in the wall, carrying a huge butcher knife, ready to carve them all out like pumpkins on Halloween._

_Overall, he was waiting for something that would just make him scream, "What the fuck!" at the top of his lungs._

_The very few bits of conversation in the room were mostly focused on the recovery of the newest addition to the crew._

_Several people asked if she was going to be okay and she just looked at them like they were stupid, "Of course," she would respond back coolly, "It was just a flesh wound." Then she would flash a killer smile that sent even the roughest men's hearts fluttering in an off steady beat._

_They usually left her alone after that. _

_At one point, Ghost casually walked over to Kyrie and looked her over._

"_Take a picture, sir. It would last longer."_

_Ghost chuckled without warning, "I was just wondering what the official diagnostic of that shoulder of yours was?"_

_She raised an eyebrow at him, "I'll be back for training by tomorrow, even though the doctor told me if I wanted to help get the HVI out of that gulag, I'd have to skip training till then to let my shoulder heal."_

"_She's not lying Ghost," Mactavish spoke up from his side of the room, "Go ask Dr. Westbrook."_

"_The why you coming back to train, eh Wade?" _

_Kyrie shrugged, "Who else is gonna keep you company at the front of the pack? I know how lonely you get up there; you're always so deprived of any human interaction."_

_What Kyrie said was true. She was easily the task force's best distance and speed runner, on average she ran the mile that they did every morning in less than six minutes. On a few rare occasions she's gotten around seven but that was usually only a day after a mission gone slightly haywire form the original plan._

"_Well, I appreciate your concern for my social life."_

"_Someone has to, if I didn't, who would? Mactavish? He'd annoy the hell out of you."_

"_True, true," Ghost said, nodding his head._

_Kyrie looked slightly smug as the lieutenant finished his sentence, before he began a new one, "So what really did happen to your shoulder? If it was just a flesh wound like you said, which I doubt," Kyrie's smug face was wiped clean off as Ghost continued his original question, "You'd be back in training by **today**." _

_Kyrie sighed before explaining, "The doctor said it split the interior deltoid in half on its way in and on its way out, since there was no muscle protecting the bone, the bullet scraped against it, destroying some of the nerves," and then she unexpectedly smirked, "They also tell me if a bastard ever gets a pretty effing lucky shot and hits that same spot, I won't feel any pain."_

_Most of the men's eyes widened, except for the Captains, he was already aware of the state of her nerves and surrounding tissues in her shoulder. Kyrie wasn't telling the whole truth though; the muscles and nervous system in the small area of her left shoulder would never feel again. The nerve lines running through her shoulder were all but severed straight across, only two or three survived, those connected to the rest of her arm and they divided into the nerves that were still present in her arm muscles._

"_Damn," Ghost said, "I think it sounded more painful than it looked."_

_Kyrie chuckled, "Well it sure hurt a helluva lot more feeling it then listening to it."_

"_Valid point."_

_**Click**_

"_Shit."_

_Men who were scattered amongst the room threw themselves at their respective chairs, several ran into each other. Worm was the last to throw himself like a baseball towards the chair and, surprise; he ended up sprawled out on the floor like a child throwing a temper tantrum, completely disoriented as to what the hell just happened to him._

_The door swung open to reveal no one other than the general himself and Mactavish cursed whatever God Worm believed in for making him such an idiot and a complete klutz._

_Sheppard narrowed his eyes at Worm before switching his gaze to the other members, seeing this as an opportunity to get in his seat before Sheppard made him stay on the floor the entire meeting like a bloody dog, he scrambled up, trying not to make any noise, and sat, exhaling a quiet breath he didn't know he was holding._

_Archer put a secretive thumbs up from the seat beside him towards the man as he accomplished his goal. Worm then secretively flipped him off._

"_Raven," Sheppard's voice sounded._

_Everyone looked slightly confused before realizing he meant Kyrie._

_Mactavish and the other team members abruptly realized that they never called her by her call sign, they always called her Kyrie, never Raven. _

_Within the first few hours Mactavish briefly recalled him and Roach calling her by her respective call sign, then when they got back, it was Wade or Sergeant, when either he or Ghost became irritated with the girl, or just plain Kyrie, not once Raven._

_It just seemed to go without saying that Kyrie didn't want to be called Raven, she liked Kyrie, and then Mactavish momentarily let his mind wonder and allowed it to think of how she got the nickname in the first place._

_He had completely forgotten he was even in a meeting until Kyrie, or Raven, took a moment to look up and respond, not really recognizing her name had been called, "yes sir," she responded strongly, making up for the hesitation earlier._

"_How's that shoulder," he asked, although Kyrie could guess he wouldn't really care if she said it felt like someone was sawing it off with a razor blade._

"_Perfectly fine, sir," she responded back, making sure not to put so much hesitance into her voice._

"_Good, I have a mission for you."_

"_Got it- wait, just me?"_

_Sheppard nodded, "It's a one man mission."_

"_Wait sir," Mactavish courteously interrupted, "We still have to destroy those SAM sites and get the hostages out of those oil rigs."_

"_I realize this; that is where you'll all be going on Saturday; Kyrie is still planned to accompany you. Then, Kyrie's mission will come into play," Sheppard educated him._

"_Alright, alright," Kyrie gives, "You've caught my interest. Now, what is this one man mission?"_

_Sheppard smiles, although it isn't a nice smile, it's almost pitiless, if anything, "Once you infiltrate the gulag, there will be a center system of computers, controls, security. As most of you know, we did have two casualties of the last mission, Meat and Royce."_

_Sheppard continues with no difference in volume, "Royce was our main, "computer genius", now we have no "hackers", as you call them. Kyrie, you're the only one in the same ballpark as Royce in terms of technology."_

"_You sure," Kyrie questioned, "I'm horrible with computers. The last time I tried to hack one it blew up."_

_Several men turned to stare at her in shock; several just wanted to shout, "How the fuck did you manage to blow up a goddamn computer!"_

_Sheppard sighed in defeat, it was obvious the Sergeant did not want to have all the responsibility on her shoulders, "Fine. You and Ghost will be left to do the necessary hacking."_

"_Yes, sir," they responded, Kyrie much happier that if the computers did happen to blow up, she could share the blame with someone. _

"_If I may," Mactavish interrupted respectfully, "What are Kyrie and Ghost looking for exactly?"_

_Sheppard nodded slightly, his head held high, "Their main objective is to find where exactly prisoner 627 is located, If they have time, I expect them to sort through any files that might help us."_

"_So be on the look out for any files with strange names, passwords, and personal identifications," Kyrie stated, more to Ghost then anything._

"_I'll probably try sorting through all the prisoners," Ghost said, seeming to already think of a plan, "See if anybody else in there is important."_

_Roach looked a bit confused, "So you're saying that this base of operations is at the center of the Gulag? Right?"_

"_Yep," Kyrie said, "where else would it be?"_

"_No it's just," Roach stammered, trying to defend himself and quick, "How are we gonna get there if it's in the bloody center of the facility? Blow a huge hole in it?"_

"_The American air-force will be there Sergeant Sanderson," Sheppard explained, "You should have no trouble sorting through the guards."_

_Roach nodded briskly, not wanting to look stupid again._

"_Do we all have understanding," Sheppard asked._

"_Yes sir!"_

"_All the information we discussed here today will be explained more thoroughly over radio on route to the mobile SAM sites."_

* * *

><p><strong>Current time at 4:40 PM<strong>

**Barracks**

So maybe he was exaggerating when he said something screwed him over good but still.

He didn't like the idea of Kyrie going on this mission, even with Ghost.

He didn't like the idea in general that Kyrie would be allowed to go. What he wanted was for her to stay here, recover, and not die.

Too late to make his voice heard so that's the end of that.

Anyway, Ghost looks over to Roach and rolls his eyes, "Kyrie said she'd cook dinner or something. She's in the kitchen right now, brewing something up. It surprisingly smells good."

Archer nods, "I tried to get a peek and she smacked with a spatula!"

"That doesn't surprise me," Ghost commented.

Roach nodded, "You really should have seen that coming."

"Whatever," Archer replies and rolls his eyes.

"Well, I'm just gonna check up on Kyrie then," Roach stated, turning towards the door.

"Yeah," Archer muttered, "tell your girlfriend it's not nice to hit people."

Roach stopped and turned back to Archer, "What?"

Archer had one of the biggest shit eating grins you ever saw painted on his face and he brushes Roach off, "Nothing man, you're hearing things."

Roach narrows his eyes and exits, barely hearing the start of the deafening, boisterous laughter of Archer, Toad and Chemo.

"You guys are stupid," Ghost mutters under his breath, "He's gonna kick your asses if he finds out you make rumors like that…"

* * *

><p><strong>Current time 4:47 pm<strong>

**Kitchen**

Roach pushes open the door slowly, not wanting to collide with anyone on the other side. He inhales and is met with the heavenly scents of fresh bread and cookies. He looks to see Kyrie, standing in front of the stove, stirring a huge pot of something, humming lightly to herself.

She's wearing jeans and a tank top now, covered in an apron. Her hair is held up high in a messy bun on the top of her head.

"Kyrie?"

Kyrie visibly jumps and she turns to face him. Roach almost laughs as he sees a stretch of flour on her cheek.

He sighs and pretends to be annoyed. He grabs a small towel and wets it before rubbing the flour off her cheek.

"Really," she asked, "That's so cliché."

"What? Wiping off a bit of flour from your cheek?"

"Yeah all we need is some cheesy romantic music and we'd be set."

Roach laughs and looks at her project of multiple foods, none of which seem to fit together.

He raises and eyebrow and she huffs, "it's not done yet…"

"I can tell since I'm pretty sure I just saw something move," Roach said.

"What," she asked aghast, "The lady said they were dead!"

He laughed again, "I'm joking, chill."

"You jerk," she muttered. He laughed loudly at fooling her so easily.

"That's it! Out," she commanded, shooing him away, "You'll ruin it!"

* * *

><p><strong>5:45<strong>

**Dining Hall**

"What the Hell are we doing?"

A majority of the people sitting around or near the table shrugged. Mactavish huffed in annoyance at not getting any real answer or response out of his men and God knows what a mess Kyrie made in the kitchen.

Overall, John Mactavish was stressed. Very stressed.

It didn't help his stress levels when he knew the war may has well been right outside on the very front lawn of this base and the whole 627 prisoner business is just getting more intensified every time he asks Sheppard about it.

Mactavish looked desperately over to Roach, the only who was allowed in the kitchen over ten seconds at a time.

Roach sighed and Mactavish was preparing for another shrug when he cut himself in, "C'mon bug."

"Kyrie's apparently showing off her, and I quote, "Amazing cooking skills."

"Lovely."

They all waited patiently for what seemed like hours, when it was really only five minutes when Kyrie's voice sounded out, calling Roach and Archer to the kitchen.

Archer looked as if he were going to piss his pants as he followed behind Roach, who was casually strolling into the kitchen, a curious but not terrified expression on his face.

Seconds later, the thought to be dead men came out and began putting plates and bowls and silverware at seats around the dining table, looking almost jubilant at being given such a menial task.

Mactavish narrowed his eyes at the boys and wondered why they never showed any hint of a smile when they were setting the cafeteria tables.

Kyrie made her appearance then, coming out of the kitchen with a pot of what seemed to be soup.

Mactavish would be lying if he said it didn't smell tempting.

She then went around the table filling the bowls Roach and Archer had set out with a creamy, thick, and white soup. The men had unknowingly begun to sit back around the table, scooting in their chairs to get closer.

Once she had done her round, she quickly went into the kitchen and came hurriedly back out, two bowls in the cradles of her arms.

Once again she went around the table, all but one seat empty, and put the contents of the bowl into the soup. Then men watched as shredded cheddar cheese and crispy bacon met the steaming hot inside of their bowls.

Kyrie brushed off her hands proudly and smiled, "There, my mom's old fashioned creamy potato soup."

They all stared into the bowls, amazed. The soup itself was amazing. The cheese was an appreciated extra. But goddamn, the bacon. Not one of them remembered the last time they had bacon, let alone real meat.

Kyrie took off her apron and sat down, smoothing out her jeans. "Of the few weeks I've been here, I noticed you guys never had any real dinner or lunch together. You all show up at the cafeteria sure, but you never all sit together and it's so divided. It kinda got on my nerves. So, I figured we'd have some sort of cliché family dinner and not be divided and separated because I think…right now, we really need to be united."

She looked around the table, and for what she believes to be the first time in her life, is worried about what people think of her. Maybe…this was a wrong-

"I think it's a great idea. I love it."

Kyrie looked up, surprised at Roach, who beamed and took his water glass and raised it high.

Mactavish smiled and raised his glass right aside Roach's, "I agree. This was an excellent idea, Kyrie. Thank you."

Ghost nodded and raised his water glass, "Tavish took my line, sorry."

Kyrie grinned and raised her glass to theirs and the other men who had raised their glasses, "Cheers."

Ghost smirked beneath his mask, "Cheers to Saturday. We are going to kick Makarov's Russian ass."

"Damn straight!"

* * *

><p>Kyrie "Raven" Wade sat on a lawn chair outside on the porch of the base, swinging her legs and staring at the sky.<p>

After her three course meal she had cleaned up and done the dishes; Ghost had even come in an offered to help dry. She accepted and got the dishes done in half the time it would've took alone. Once finished she had bid a good night to him, knowing he liked to go to bed earlier than the other men. He said it was to save himself the embarrassment of dealing with his subordinates tired and lazy practical jokes.

She had then grabbed her iPod and gone outside, knowing the weather was going to be chilly, she had thrown on some long pajama pants and a hoodie before making her way outside.

She had sat there for a good ten to Fifthteen minutes, aimlessly staring off and getting lost in her music before Roach had come out and took a seat beside her.

She pulled out a head phone just as he began speaking, "Why'd you do it?"

"The dinner-"

"No," he interrupted quickly, "You saved me. You jumped down, pulled my ass up off the ground, getting shot in the process, and…and you saved me!"

Kyrie was confused, very confused and Roach did not seem to fancy the idea of looking up at her. His feet must be very interesting.

"I'm sorry," she said awkwardly and puzzled, "Did you…not want me to save you?"

"No, no," he assured her, "I did and I'm…thankful for it. But, I want to know why? Why did you jump down? You didn't have to risk yourself. You could have gone with Mactavish and Ghost and been safe up in that helicopter. But you didn't go with them. You jumped down. You stuck your neck out without any real hope of reward…and you knew that you might've died yet you jump-"

"Stop talking, you're confusing me."

Roach looked desperately confused and Kyrie felt bad for him. "Wait, Roach, you don't think that my shoulder is…your fault, do you?"

Roach didn't answer and instead went back to staring intently at the ground, as if he stared hard enough, laser beams would shoot out of his eyes and burn a hole into the ground.

"Roach," Kyrie asked again.

No response.

"Roach," she said more firmly, "Answer me."

Roach finally pulled his eyes up to meet her and Kyrie saw nothing but bitter remorse there and she immediately grimaced.

"Holy Jesus Christ you do believe it's your fault," she barked out, standing up in a rush to her feet, her iPod clattering to the ground.

Roach made no sound and did not move but instead continued his life as a statue.

Kyrie crouched down and stared into his eyes, they stared back, waiting for judgment.

Kyrie never would have thought that Roach, the young, incredibly muscled and attractive twenty four year old to be the type to put all the blame on themselves and to put it simply, it bothered her.

A lot, it bothered her a lot.

"Roach," she started, "What I did was my choice. Maybe it wasn't the most sensible choice but I couldn't go through losing another team member because I was a coward."

Roach jolted up, "What? Lose another…?"

"Do you want me to tell you a story Roach?"

* * *

><p>Gary wrapped the covers tighter around his muscled body and snuggled into their warmth, definitely needing it after Kyrie's unnerving story that had left him with a chill he couldn't seem to get rid of.<p>

"_Do you want me to tell you a story Roach?"_

_What choice did Roach even have? He nodded, eyes following her as she sat back down beside him._

"_Has Mactavish told you or anyone about exactly who I am," she asked, bringing her knees up to her chest._

_Roach shook his head, "No. As far as I know you haven't mentioned anything either; you've left us in the dark."_

_She gave him a small smile, "That's one way to put it. Anyway, I'm a bastard, and before you make some snide remark, I mean the motherless/fatherless kind."_

_A few moments passed by, bathed in silence, until Roach broke it, "So?"_

_Kyrie sent a playful glare his way, "Maybe I should've worded that better. My real father, well, you know him, everyone knows him, and he's pretty important. My mother, well, nobody knows her and that's how it's supposed to be."_

_Roach racked his brain for the possibilities. It was obvious Kyrie was not going to give him names or any real recalled events. She wanted him to guess and figure it out._

"_My father," she continued, "as I said is really important and he couldn't have a child that wasn't technically apart of the family. They're would be a big scandal. So, he cast me and my mother out after I was born. My mom had little choice but to go back to the Farm."_

_Roach's curiosity peaked at that. The farm? Was Kyrie from the country?_

"_You're from the country," Roach asked, surprised. He couldn't really picture it. A younger Kyrie and a taller, older Kyrie running around a farm milking cows. It didn't fit his mindset in terms of Kyrie._

_Kyrie laughed and shook her head, "Wrong kind of farm but nice try."_

_Roach became very confused. What other kind of farm was there?_

"_Anyways," she said, still recovering from Roach's obliviousness, "I met who I consider my father there. From there I had nothing close to a normal childhood, but I'll save you the details."_

_Roach raised his eyebrow; why was this so confusing? Couldn't she just outright tell him what happened?_

"_Back to my main point, I was on a mission with four other assa-soldiers," she stuttered suddenly, "Soldiers. I was on a mission with four other soldiers."_

_Roach narrowed his eyes and his suspicion went up about ten degrees, making him focus on Kyrie._

"_I was…young," she said, pausing to think of the word young, "And we were in New York, trying to eliminate a band of gangs who were giving us trouble."_

"_Shouldn't that be the police's job," Roach interjected._

"_They weren't any ordinary gang," Kyrie said grimly, "They have millions of people and companies under their wing; even other gangs follow them. The thing is, you would never know. They hide it so well. Hell, if I didn't know any better, I'd say most of the police force is also under their control; government too."_

"_Stop," Roach interjected, "This is beginning to sound like a conspiracy theory more than a military story."_

"_So we had to kill them, or as many as we could until we were killed," Kyrie continued, ignoring Roach as she told the tale, "We were slaughtered. They were too strong and they got one of us to jump sides. Our commander was dead, and his second in commend was a double agent. There was only another boy and I left."_

_Roach's heart tightened; he was regretting asking to hear this story. His mind was still perplexed with the cryptic conspiracy like riddles she had spun earlier and now it was saddened, for he knew misfortune was going to strike her and the boy._

"_Like I said," Kyrie persisted, "We were young. So we ran. It didn't take long for them to catch the boy and slit his throat. And it took not more a minute after that that they caught me."_

_She pointed to the pale scar on her cheek and neck, which she usually covered with cover-up. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened next," Kyrie whispered, "But, I did manage to kill the double crossing bastard who betrayed us."_

"_How is that your fault," Roach asked through gritted teeth, "You weren't the coward, the double crosser was."_

"_Maybe," Kyrie replied, "but I shouldn't have run away like that. I ran almost as soon as my commander died, not even bothering to try to get the other boy running too. I left him behind to fend for himself. I was selfish and a coward. It was my responsibility to watch out for him and I practically handed him over. That was my fault, Roach. I made a decision to run away and be a coward and I've regretted it for the past thirteen, maybe fourteen years."_

"_What," Roach asked, jolting up._

"_What," Kyrie asked, suddenly jumpy too._

"_Don't you mean three or four years, not thirteen or fourteen?"_

"_I said three or four."_

"_No you didn't."_

"_Yes I did."_

"_No you-"_

"_Ok! But you knew what I meant."_

_With that, Kyrie snatched her iPod off the table and went inside, slamming the door shut behind her._

_Roach got the feeling that he should've just let it slide. The story didn't make him feel any better._

_And suddenly he got it. That decision she made to run, in her book, was a bad one and she regretted it. But the decision to jump down after him, in her booked seemed to be one she didn't regret._

* * *

><p>So Roach let the chills channel through his body, still feeling guilty about Kyrie's shoulder. Even though Kyrie didn't regret her decision, that doesn't mean that he didn't.<p>

The chances of getting any form of sleep tonight were slim and tomorrow was Saturday, the day they would go and breakout 627.

Roach also had the conspiracy like theories bouncing around in his mind. He was probably being paranoid but Kyrie seemed to be speaking the truth when she said this big "gang" was controlling the government and the police.

Roach shivered, _it's probably nothing. She's just trying to worry me._

_Why would she waste her time making me paranoid though?_

Roach sighed and turned over in his bunk, staring absentmindedly at Ghost, who had the bunk beside his.

"What's up Bug," Ghost's voice whispered, making Roach jump, "You've been tossing and turning all through the bloody night."

"Sorry," Roach whispered back, repositioning his head on the pillow.

"Are you nervous or something," Ghost asked curiously. It wasn't like Roach to be nervous, let alone lose any sleep over it.

"No, well maybe a little but that's not what's bothering me," Roach replied.

Ghost glanced across the room over to Kyrie, who had a strained expression on her face, most likely having a nightmare. It looks like he wasn't the only one with sleeping problems anymore.

He remembered seeing Kyrie storm back in through the door that lead out to the porch, announcing that she was going to bed. He also remembered Roach coming in a few minutes later, sulking and not seeming his usual upbeat self. He had plopped down on the couch and had not said a word to anyone while there. It took him about an hour for him to give up and go to bed.

"Something go wrong with your girlfriend, bug," Ghost asked, maintaining some seriousness but some humor to let Roach know that he didn't have to answer.

Roach went a little pink and spit out that Kyrie was not his girlfriend and that nothing concerning her was bothering him.

Ghost smirked and rolled over, telling the boy to get some sleep. He huffed and fell back onto the bed. Ghost smirked again.

That bug was a horrible liar.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong> So how was it my little soldiers? Good? Bad? Did it make your eyes bleed? Probably.

**Roach: **I'm taking a guess here, but yes, it probably killed them.

It's not that bad.

**Roach: **It almost killed me and I'm fictional, I can't technically die.

Shut up, You're supposed to be all sulky and emo!

Anyway, Review and stuff, tell me what you thought of it. Your reviews are what drives me to write, so the more you review, the faster chapters come up!

**Roach: **She doesn't own anything! Review please!

Stop stealing my lines!


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